Beneath a Clear Blue Sky
by emberlivi
Summary: Is it possible to capture thirteen years in seven days? The Dark Mark, dueling, dodging Aurors, and an Ancient Matter that only Sirius can fulfill. A sequel to Shown like the Sun
1. Chapter 1

**Standard disclaimer: **This story is based on characters created by JK Rowling. No money is being made from this and no copyright infringement is intended.

**AN**: Thank you so much for deciding to read this story. This is a continuation of the _Ebb and Flow _and _Shown like the Sun_ stories. It is OC heavy.

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_In the misty tangled sky,_

_Fast a wind is blowing…._

—_Donovan_

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**Chapter 1**

"At least we're all clothed," Althea mused as she looked across the field of wizards and witches milling about their tents.

Grey smoke lazily ascended from the chimneys and hung like a thick fog above the earth-colored tents assembled for the Quidditch World Cup. She laughed through her nose at the blatant violations of the International Statute of Secrecy: green and purple fires, children skimming along on toy broomsticks, and a two-story tent with a balcony. _They don't give a damn, do they_?

"Peacocks?" she remarked and laughed condescendingly at the tent in the distance. "That bastion of understated elegance _must_be Malfoy's tent. D'you have your camera?"

The young woman to her left with thick, brown hair—the feathers of the kelly green fascinator fluttering in the slight breeze—wrinkled her nose. "No," Afina said. "Absolutely ridiculous."

The two women cringed at the sound of a cannon in the distance.

"Damn," she murmured as Afina directed her to the left. "Sirius would've enjoyed a laugh at Malfoy's delusions of grandeur."

"Wouldn't we all?"

The sounds of whistling and clapping caught Althea's attention, and she turned her head to her right and smiled. A group of children—no more than ten-years-old—spun and twirled in a large circle, barefoot, feet covered in mud and their smiling, cherubic faces painted green. She thought about her unusual ninth birthday—the saffron robes swirling about her muddied feet—and the rhythm of the drum circle that encouraged her frantic spinning…a few of the drums seeming to play on their own. She couldn't imagine herself—now—being so oblivious to the expectations of others, driven by the simple impulse to seek happiness. Such actions at her age would cause disruption and mortification—she had responsibilities (or burdens) to uphold. She sighed, lamenting the loss of childhood freedom. She hoped that no parent would whisk a child away from such joyful play when her magic became too obvious. _It's a bit like that rock festival_, she thought as the children hooted with laughter. _Except no Muggles to hide from_.

Afina let out a guttural sound of embarrassment. "How stupid do you have to be?" she said, pointing to Althea's left.

Althea, disappointed that she must ignore the children, turned and observed an older wizard—with scraggly grey hair—in a brightly colored woman's nightgown. Her lips quivered into a smile, as she did her best to suppress her rude laughter at the gruff-looking man who paired a fuchsia and purple flower print nightgown with green Wellingtons.

"We were told to dress like a Muggle," she said and covered her mouth as the man bent over to collect firewood. "At least he's wearing pants."

"God," Afina remarked with disgust.

Althea smiled sympathetically at Afina's sneer. "He's the reason Hogwarts has Muggle Studies," she said, thankful the man had returned to his modest tent.

"Indeed," Afina breathed as the two continued to walk the dirt and matted grass path between the tents.

"I reckon this proves I'm not completely useless."

"Oh, Auntie, you're not—"

"Let's continue on, shall we?"

It was impossible not to feel some dread for the upcoming school year. More lesson plans, more essays, and more interaction with Snape had become increasingly difficult to stomach. Her letters, carefully crafted with numerous reasons and extrapolations for her resignation, were each answered with Dumbledore's refusal. She thought of personally delivering her last attempt along with her replacement to Dumbledore, but it was thwarted by her replacement's acceptance of a job with the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.

The strap of Althea's sandal dug into her right heel, and she began to walk with a slight limp. _Oh, this is right awful_, she thought and grimaced from the sharp pain with each step. _How much longer_?

"Hang on," she said and stopped. She winced at the searing pain in the back of her heel as she lifted it over the strap. "_Calcane sanentur_," she said, pointing her wand at her heel. She twisted herself to see if the sloughed skin and redness vanished. "Is it gone, do you think?"

Afina nodded. "I charmed that pair myself," she said and grabbed the shoe from Althea. She carefully inspected the shoe and clicked her teeth. "Unbelievable."

Althea stood, perched on one leg. "You can fix the charm later," she said, cringing as the cool mud touched the tips of her toes. "The ground is disgusting."

Afina looked at the muddy ground that Althea's toes were hesitant to touch. "That is the _last _I design shoes!" she said, handing Althea her sandal.

Althea smiled sympathetically. "It's not the first pair," she said, slipping on her sandal. "Come on," she added, taking Afina's arm. "Let us resume our never-ending trek towards Gran's Xanadu."

It was difficult not to feel some hesitancy as the two women meandered through the makeshift village of wizards and witches. It was a display of magic that Althea had never witnessed. Magic on such a large scale that it dared not to be hidden. It was that secrecy that Althea knew best, and as she observed the singing decorations and small toy brooms buzzing about the camps, she could not help but feel mild resentment. She had her very well defined place in Muggle society, and yes, she was considered an eccentric (and who wasn't with her station—a very distant cousin once studied the life-cycle of the lesser silver water beetle for ten years) but very much a _Muggle_. Magic was the slight of hand of street performers, the illusions of a television magician, and the realm of silly children's books. It did not exist. It could not exist. Why choose a rickety old broom when one has first-class air travel?

She would have arrived earlier to meet Afina, but she spent at least twenty minutes helping four Wizarding families manage Muggle money. It seemed odd to her that a person could be so cloistered from the Muggle world as it is inescapably all round, but there were many and most did live sequestered in the country. The only interaction was the rare occasion of the Hogwarts Express, and then, they took for granted that Muggles did not notice. _Why Sirius's family chose London—the epicenter of all things Muggle—to live, I'll never understand_, she wondered, an impish smile crept upon her face. _He was a blood traitor at the first bird in a miniskirt_.

"Where did that old woman have them place our tent?" she asked, the brown, beige, and olive tents becoming a muddy blur. "Aren't these families good enough?"

Afina laughed lowly. "We're next to the Irish Minister's tent."

Althea threw her head back. "Damn."

"He's not that awful."

"No, he isn't," she admitted, clasping her hands behind her back as they walked. "Very nice to look at—"

"Looking would become very boring—"

"Going places, or so I've been told—"

"A Minister's wife—"

"It's just…I'm with the most eligible bachelor in all of Wizarding Britain," she added and noticed the Irish flag perched high atop a large green tent. "Did I mention he's exceedingly wealthy, too?"

Afina disregarded Althea's remark. "Here we are," she said and nodded to the tent to the right of the large green tent.

"Good Lord," she murmured as she walked forward, wrinkling her nose at the noble purple fabric. "How much of my money did she spend on this?"

Afina shrugged. "She wanted to live comfortably—"

"For one night?" she remarked, the corner of her mouth upturning into half a smile. "We're lucky we don't have house-elves."

Althea followed Afina into the tent and could not hide her derision. There, before her, was the entrance hall of Northfield. It's paintings, fixtures, and furniture all recreated for one night in this tent. Her low-heeled sandals clicked along the black and white tiled marble floor as she examined the open doorways. Her eyes drifted toward the staircase and she shook her head.

"A bit rustic, isn't it?" she said as she passed the informal dining room.

"It will do," Afina replied, her posture rigid in her best imitation of Gran. "I have taken the liberty, Althea Rosemary—"

"Althea Rosemary?"

Althea stopped at the doorway to the drawing room. She looked up at the vaulted ceiling—impressed at the uncanny recreation of the 18th century fresco—and sighed. _Right_, she thought and swallowed for strength. Despite returning to England, more than a week ago, it was to be the first meeting between the women since their confrontation in Bermuda. Gran's deceit and mortifying disclosure of her past were still raw with Althea. _Every thing in its place_, she thought, hesitating before she entered the drawing room. Afina gave Althea a gentle nudge. _Right_, she thought, casting a dark look upon the furniture, _maybe this will be your new home, old woman_. Gran, dressed in emerald, did not look up from her needlepoint. Althea peered into Gran's lap and wrinkled her nose at the needlepoint glorifying the Irish National Team.

"Is that what you are wearing?"

_No, 'Hello, my lovely granddaughter. Did you have a nice flight? Are you enjoying Northfield?' Always, have to keep up appearances, don't we_, she thought, and looked upon her frock. She thought it to be the perfect dress for the match—a shift dress in white with eyelet and small, embroidered shamrocks and a wide-brimmed straw hat.

"It isn't the Grand National, if that's what you're going for," she said and pointed toward Gran's matching emerald hat and its considerable plume of matching feathers. "I'm the least bit shocking, I can assure you."

Gran narrowed her eyes over her thin-rimmed spectacles.

Althea smirked. "He's not coming. Your reputation is safe," she said and nodded with thanks as Afina handed her a glass of lemonade. "He's probably sitting at the wireless, sulking."

"Are you sure?" Gran questioned.

"Very," she answered and took a sip of lemonade. "Would you like me to ask Remus to check up on him?"

Gran returned to her needlepoint with vigor.

"He isn't stupid—"

"Enough, Althea Rosemary," Gran said with forced calm. She placed her needlepoint upon the table. "The Irish side looks very good this year," she explained and Althea thought she saw a hopeful smile. "True talent, if you ask me. All Bulgaria has is that Seeker—"

"Good," Althea said and finished her lemonade. She pursed her lips at the last of the tart, sweet juice. "I've wagered Northfield."

Gran gave her a stern look.

Althea gave Gran a condescending smile. "You have this tent," she replied, spreading out her arms.

Gran's stern look remained.

"It is as fine as Northfield," she continued, placing the glass on a suspiciously similar silver tray. "It _is _Northfield. I would love to know how much this cost me. You should be lucky that I'm letting you live in London."

Gran lifted the ornately decorated watch that dangled from her long silver necklace. "The match will start shortly," she said, looking at the two women. "I will meet you there as I will enter with the Minister."

"Right," Althea sighed.

"I do not want you to be late, Althea Rosemary," she continued and Althea fought the urge to sigh once more. "Minister Griffin is a dear friend—"

"I understand," she said over her grandmother. Althea took Afina by the arm. "Let's leave this monstrosity," she whispered through gritted teeth.

As the two women exited the tent, it was Afina who spoke first. "Are you sure you won't spend the night?"

Althea shook her head.

Afina pouted. "She didn't bother to recreate my room," she said, casting a gloomy look at the tent from over her shoulder. "Or yours…. She'll drive me mad."

Althea frowned slightly. "You could stay at the true Northfield," she said as the two women walked arm and arm toward the impressive stadium—the joyful singing and chanting growing louder. "It's Sophie's birthday and I promised her."

"You aren't—"

"We are," she replied, looking at the large throng of people clamoring into the stadium ahead.

"The village is one thing, but—"

"It'll be dark," Althea whispered, patting Afina's arm, "and we'll be surrounded by Muggles."

Afina shook her head. "I can't believe those spells worked," she muttered, and Althea winked at the group of four men who eyed the women as they walked by.

Althea leaned close. "He figured out Animagus transformation at fifteen—he's too brilliant for his own good," she whispered, smiling at their cleverness. She laughed quietly. "Stephen Potter lives."

"Professor!"

Althea stopped immediately, which jolted Afina forward. She gasped—she knew that beautiful voice. _Of all the thousands of people_, she mused, and her heart quickened its pace at the thought of Prudence.

Afina laughed lowly as she eyed Althea, "Professor?"

Althea shushed her.

She smiled at the hurried footsteps muffled in the muddied grass. The thought that Prudence was excited to see her, hurried to see her, caused a surge of confidence and elation in her heart. She inhaled deeply, smoothed her dress, and slowly turned to face her daughter. Prudence had grown at least two inches since their last meeting at Hogwarts. _My hair was just as long at that age_, she thought as Prudence, smiling, smoothed a curl behind her ear.

"Hello, Prudence," she said, stepping closer. "Enjoying your summer?"

Prudence nodded. "I had no idea you'd be here!"

"My Gran had an extra ticket," she said, patting her small, white beaded purse. She glanced at Afina, who stared upon Prudence with a slightly parted mouth. "This is my niece, Afina," she said with a nod. "Afina, this is Miss Prudence Parker."

Afina blinked. "Hello," she mustered.

Prudence smiled. "Hi."

"Prudence!" a woman shouted with some annoyance.

Prudence sighed. "Genevieve's mum," she explained, shoving her hands in her pockets. She rolled her eyes. "She's convinced I'll be kidnapped."

Althea's elbow connected with Afina's side. "We wouldn't want that," she said and spotted the frantic woman, walking quickly toward the three. "You've been gone for a while, haven't you?"

Prudence shrugged. "I've never seen so many like me."

"Of course," Althea murmured and leaned to whisper to Prudence, "and I haven't either."

Prudence smiled with kinship and surprise. "You haven't?"

Althea shook her head. "No."

The petite woman with long blonde hair sighed with relief—her eyes recognizing Prudence. "Thank you," she said to the women with slight embarrassment.

"No worries," Althea said, smiling at Prudence. "She's a student of mine."

"Oh, _oh_," the woman said—her eyes widening in recognition. "You're—"

"Professor Morrigan, yes," she said, holding out her hand. "How do you do?"

"Constance Rourke," she said, taking Althea's hand. "The girls talk about you so much. I hope they're not too bothersome."

"No, not one bit," she said, giddy that her daughter thought so highly of her. "I find them _very _entertaining," she said, playfully narrowing her eyes at Prudence, who pretended to look interested in the conversation.

Mrs. Rourke looked upon Prudence. Prudence smiled pleasantly. Althea bit her bottom lip as not to snicker.

Mrs. Rourke sighed. "You're so very lucky Professor Morrigan found you," she said, placing her hand upon Prudence's shoulder. "Where have you been for the last hour?"

"Looking at the horses—"

"It's so very dangerous!" she continued, oblivious to Prudence's answer.

"They had wings—"

"Aethonans," Althea offered.

Prudence gasped. "That's what they're called?"

Althea nodded.

"You could've gotten lost," Mrs. Rourke said, "or worse. Sirius Black—"

Althea's happiness faltered. _I will not have you poison her_, she thought, her trembling hands tightening her grip upon her purse.

"Is far away from here," she said, "I can assure you."

Mrs. Rourke stopped speaking—her expression puzzled. "How—how would you know?"

Althea felt Afina straighten herself. "Well…this place is crawling with the Ministry," she began, fiddling with a loose bead, "and I doubt with all this security, he'd bother to show up."

"But—"

"_Witch Weekly _said he didn't even like Quidditch," Afina said and directed her mock horrified face at Prudence.

Prudence smiled faintly.

"And if I were escaped from Azkaban, I'd want to spend my time upon a tropical beach—"

"Fiji," Afina chimed.

"Or Tahiti," Althea continued as Prudence looked at her with great interest, "and not some moor."

Mrs. Rourke frowned.

"At least that's what I would do," Althea shrugged as more people walked toward the stadium.

"Right, well, don't run off like that," Mrs. Rourke said, wrinkling her brow at Prudence.

Prudence shrugged.

Mrs. Rourke looked to Althea and Afina. "Thank you," she said, turning Prudence away from the women. "Enjoy the match."

Althea nodded. "You're welcome," she said and waved.

Prudence twisted to look at the two women and waved, but was soon shuffled along by Mrs. Rourke. The loneliness crept back into her chest with every step Prudence took. Althea watched them as they walked four tents away, to the left, and out of sight. _Do you know you won't return to Hogwarts_, she wondered, her nails digging themselves between the small beads of her purse. _And we can do nothing_? Althea thrust her arms at her side in frustration.

Afina sighed sadly. "He would buy her a winged horse, wouldn't he?"

Althea nodded as she looked at the empty space where Prudence once stood. "Granian and she'd have lessons."

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**AN**: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and feel free to leave your comments, reviews, etc.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Althea craned her neck from the Irish Minister's box to look out at the rest of the chanting crowd—exuberant fans with painted faces, wearing all sundry Quidditch paraphernalia, held banners and twirled streamers in anticipation of the match. In her life, she had attended one professional Quidditch match—Magpies versus Harpies—but it was a poor comparison to the attendance and festivities of this match. _One hundred thousand people_, she thought, overwhelmed by awe. _From all over the world—I wouldn't have wanted Prudence to miss this_. She frowned. _They grant her the opportunity to experience magic from other cultures, but they deny her Hogwarts? Why must they be so cruel to her_? Althea absently fanned herself with her program. Was it the anxious Mrs. Rourke that convinced the Parkers to keep Prudence from Hogwarts? Althea imagined, over tea, Mrs. Rourke excitedly telling Mrs. Parker the goings on of Hogwarts—of werewolves, basilisks, and an escaped convict terrorizing the children. _At twelve, Sirius would to scare me with that…the Chamber of Secrets would get me_, she thought and stopped fanning herself.

"Are you all right, Auntie?"

_Such the family_, she thought, lowering the program. _Dark Magic as a bedtime story_.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm all right," Althea murmured, briefly furrowing her eyebrows.

She paused, further ruminating upon Sirius's oblivious childhood teasing. Sirius, with a boyish face of malicious glee, would taunt her in whispers. _'Nobody knows what it is, and that's how it'll get you, Morrigan,' _he would say in an excitedly hushed tone. _'Walking the corridor…it'll just snatch you up…we'll never know what happened to you.'_ Althea wrinkled nose. _It would always end with an elaborate rescue scenario_, she thought, remembering Sirius—his wand arm waving violently—mimic his defeat of the ambiguous, sinister creature.

"Berk," she breathed.

"What?"

"Have you stopped sulking over the Veelas?"

Afina growled. "How could anyone equate those harpies with what I am?" she said, slapping her program against her thigh. "Did you hear them?"

"Of course, I did," she said, looking at a group of grown men below gaping at the preening Veelas. "They're idiots, the lot of them." Althea smiled sympathetically at Afina who eyed the Veelas with disdain. "I should've done more to protect your heritage."

"We took what we could," she said, tapping her program against her thigh. "I owe you everything."

Althea teasingly groaned. "I don't want to cry at the World Cup," she said and playfully tapped Afina on her knee with her program. "Anyway, they'll remain those ghastly things once Troy, Mullet, and Moran," she continued and pointed to the squeaking rosette upon her straw hat, "thoroughly embarrass the Bulgarian side."

Afina's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Oh look," she said, giggling quietly, "he's arrived."

Althea looked from Afina to what caught her attention—she resisted the urge to sneer.

"Bloody hell," she murmured as the Undersecretary to the Irish Minister of Magic entered the box.

Althea smiled weakly as the tall, handsome man—no more than forty—with mousy brown hair and crisp blue eyes smiled at her. He was well dressed in his navy suit with a shamrock boutonnière upon his lapel. _We would look fantastic together, wouldn't we_, she admitted as she stood to greet him. She winced as she imagined a pleased Gran, standing behind them as she—his wife—proudly stood next to him as he accepted his position as the newly appointed Minister. The smile would not have yet left the newly appointed Minister's lips when the scandal of Althea's former liaisons with one escaped convict was made public.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, his voice just as pleasant as his appearance. "Would you like something? Are you comfortable?"

"No, no, thank you," she said, his eagerness making her uneasy. "I'm all right, thank you."

He smiled. "Please, don't hesitate—"

Althea fought a sigh. "I—I won't, I promise."

"Good," he said and winked. "We have a great side this year. Very solid, if you ask me."

Althea smiled pleasantly. "Yes, so I've heard," she said, her eyes darting around his shoulder. She truly grinned as Prudence entered with the Rourkes. "I'll enjoy this match very much, I think."

Prudence spotted Althea, and holding Genevieve's hand, the two girls—giggling—quickly walked forward.

The Undersecretary turned to see what had Althea's attention. "Oh," he said and looked again at Althea. "_Oh_!" His face registered surprise.

Althea smiled with mock innocence. "What?"

"I didn't…" he began, but took Althea's hand instead. "Enjoy the match."

Althea raised her eyebrow as she watched the Undersecretary in a hasty retreat.

"Eager to get into my knickers until he realized someone else already had," she muttered, sitting.

"Auntie, look who will join us for the match," Afina said happily as Prudence stood smiling next to them.

Althea smiled and quickly moved her purse and program from the seat next to her. _I will have loads to tell him_, she thought as the two girls leaned against the box and looked out around them. Prudence pointed below and laughed her feminine bark-like laugh. Prudence turned to Genevieve, and she—the taller of the two—bent to whisper excitedly in Genevieve's ear. _I just hope he isn't cross with me for keeping him from this…I wouldn't let him come as a dog_.

"Why wait?" she sighed and opened her purse.

Althea smiled as she felt the coolness of the silver compact. She glanced around her and pressed the clasp with her thumb. The plain compact sprung open and she waited—pretending to smooth her lilac eye shadow. _Answer_, she thought as Prudence looked through her Omnioculars. _Answer_. Suddenly, Sirius's grey eyes appeared in her compact. She smiled and bit her bottom lip as she nonchalantly tilted her compact in Prudence's direction. Prudence, unaware, continued to look through her Omnioculars. Althea tilted the compact toward her and Sirius motioned for a photograph. She nodded faintly.

"I love you," he mouthed, grinning.

Althea winked and closed the compact.

"Hello, Professor," Genevieve said quietly.

Althea quickly stashed the compact into her purse. "Hello," she said warmly as she looked at the two girls. "Enjoying everything so far?"

The girls nodded.

Althea waved at Mrs. Rourke, but her eyes were fixed upon the pitch. Her anxious nature was replaced with a shrewd look.

"Your mum really fancies Quidditch?" Althea whispered as Mrs. Rourke began to shout.

"Dad's the manager," Genevieve explained—her eyes widened at the play before her. "Go on—"

Althea quickly turned to see Ireland score.

"I see," she replied, raising her eyebrows at Mrs. Rourke who thrust her fist triumphantly toward the sky.

Althea's jovial feelings quickly changed to dread as Gran entered the box. Gran smiled and patted Minister Griffin's arm before letting go—the affection was mutual. Althea fought the urge to groan at Gran's ridiculous hat—emerald green with a large plume of feathers—perched upon her head. _Don't you dare embarrass me in front of my daughter, old woman_, she thought as Gran swept by them—her stately emerald robes billowing about her ankles. Prudence—her eyes wide—caught her breath as she looked at Gran and sat up in her chair. _Don't worry, my darling, she has that effect on me, as well_.

The Minister laughed loudly, which caused Althea to turn her head slightly. Out of the corner of her eye, the Undersecretary and the Minister were in a discussion, with the Minster laughingly shaking his head. The two men looked in Althea's direction, and she quickly turned her head to see the Bulgarian Chaser zoom past.

"You're having a laugh now, aren't you, Solon? I've known Agnes for _twenty years_!" the Minister said and laughed. "Little Althea—"

The crowd roared to deafen the conversation between the Minister and the Undersecretary. Althea groaned, shielding her face with her program. The Undersecretary obviously asked the Minister about the little girl with black hair, and for once, Althea was grateful for her grandmother's intimate friendship with Minister Griffin. Now that Prudence had returned to the world she was born into, the chances increased that the mother and ignorant daughter would be seen together, similarities would be observed, and questions would be asked. She needed those close, but oblivious friends to deflect the curiosity.

"I haven't missed much, have I?" Gran asked Afina as Gran opened her program.

Afina shrugged. "I haven't paid attention."

"Ireland has scored twice," Althea answered as Prudence clapped enthusiastically next to her.

"Good," Gran remarked, her dark blue eyes eagerly taking in the spectacle before her. "Minister Griffin took me to visit with the team prior to the match."

Althea smiled to herself as Moran had the Quaffle.

Althea leaned over Afina. "So, you met Genevieve's dad, then?"

Gran frowned. "Who?"

"Prudence's friend," she said and nodded toward Prudence.

Gran leaned forward, and her stern expression softened. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead, allowed her lips to curve into a warm smile. Althea arched an eyebrow at Gran's peculiar expression—one she had never witness before—joy.

Althea placed her hand upon Prudence's arm—her skin was so soft. "I want you to meet my Gran," she said over the cheers of the crowd.

Prudence leaned forward and mustered a smile. "Hello," she mustered.

Gran only smiled.

"She has winged horses, you know," Althea said and Prudence gasped. "A stable full of them. Have you ever heard of the Minister's Cup?"

Prudence shook her head.

"It's held every May," Althea explained as Moran dived with the Quaffle. "A race for winged horses. Her horses have placed twice in the last three years—they're very fast," she continued and smiled eagerly. "If you'd like, I could steal you away for the weekend next May…McGonagall would never have to know."

Prudence grinned.

"Are you looking forward to Hogwarts this year?"

Prudence nodded. "I—whoa! Amazing!" she exclaimed, pointing at Mullet who had just scored.

"Indeed," she breathed, her stomach decidedly queasy.

Althea inhaled a deep breath to calm herself. Had the Parkers not told Prudence that she would not be returning to Hogwarts to start her second year? In the pit of her stomach, an anxious twinge grew—it twisting upon itself as Althea thought more of the Parkers' deception. Althea's eyes lost their focus upon the cheering fans—the stands a blob of green and red, muted to a murky brown. At breakfast, when Prudence excitedly talked of Hogwarts and her hopes for the upcoming year, did the Parkers quiet her or—with misleading silence—allow the young girl to talk? She would expect her letter. She would expect Diagon Alley. She was at the Quidditch World Cup—the most outward and zealous celebration of magic! Althea placed her hand upon her stomach. _That they would insist upon taking you away from this_, she thought—the usually quiet Genevieve squealed and nudged Prudence as the three Irish Chasers flew past.

It was reckless to keep such an inquisitive girl away, and even more, to do so without a tutor. Althea had received the Parkers' letter earlier that morning in which they rejected the offer of a tutor and refused to provide the reason behind the abrupt decision to keep Prudence from Hogwarts. _She can't keep her wand_, she thought and slipped her hand into her purse. _She's a twelve-year-old girl…magic isn't something she could learn by correspondence classes_. Althea looked out of the corner of her eye at Prudence, who intently watched the game…as if she were looking through it. She recognized that look in her Sirius. _We're away from them_, she thought, her fingers stroked the smooth polished finish of the silver compact. _I could take you back to Northfield…I could make it so the Parkers would never find you. You could return to Hogwarts, then_, she thought as Prudence frayed the gold tassel on the program. _One good Memory Charm…they would agree to anything…if it had to come to that_. 

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**AN:** Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It was one in the morning.

Althea opened her heavy, drowsy eyes as wide as she could. From her comfortable booth, she blurrily surveyed the tightly packed crowd—illuminated by flashing lights of blue, green, and red—dancing to the throbbing music muffled to her ears by its loudness. Her eyes were attracted to one woman in particular who, dressed in a gold Versace minidress and towering heels, danced upon the table to the cheers of a few in the crowd. The woman ran her fingers through her chin length blonde hair as a man—who Althea believed to be her financial advisor—gyrated against her.

"Happy birthday, you old slag," Althea murmured, smiling as she brought the flute of champagne to her lips.

How she had missed the fog—that pleasant numbness in her head—she felt from alcohol. Her movements slow and deliberate, she smoothed the damp hair away from her face. She looked upon the emptied bottles of champagne and saw, out of her periphery, a male hand reach for a half empty gin and tonic. She stroked his hair as he lifted himself from her lap to take a drink. _They're all too drunk to care_, she thought, as he placed the glass upon the table. _And the Ministry is very far away_. Sirius returned to her lap—his eyes glazed over—he mouthed the words to the song. Althea smirked at their cleverness. Her eyes drifted to the mirrored ceiling and to the man, wearing a grey suit and his pale blue shirt slightly disheveled and partially unbuttoned, reclined against her. He was exceedingly handsome and Althea beamed with pride (if not tinged with a little jealousy) when she entered the club upon his arm to the hungry and watchful eyes of Sophie's friends. She frowned thoughtfully as she studied his face. Sophie was right—his features did remind one of a young Michael Caine, even to the blond hair that fell lazily into his eyes. Althea's frown deepened. His _grey _eyes—the one feature he could not change with the complicated Disfiguration Charms and Transfiguration Spells. She returned her gaze to his once handsome face and stroked the black hair from his eyes. _I like you better this way_, she thought as Sirius grasped her hand.

"What time is it?" he asked and kissed her fingers.

"One."

Sirius quickly sat up and grabbed his head. He exaggeratingly blinked his eyes and groaned. His breath, reeking of alcohol, he bent forward and kissed her cheek.

"I'll be back," he said and labored to stand.

Althea watched him as he stumbled into the crowd and disappeared.

"God!" Sophie moaned and threw her head back. She laughed as she looked up at the ceiling. "You're so incredibly boring!" She grabbed Althea's arm and pulled her up, which caused a few of the bottles to tip and roll across the table. "Don't you witches dance?"

"Not so loud!" Althea warned as Sophie dragged her toward the dance floor.

"Oh, what do they care?" she shouted, holding up her hands.

"True," she laughed, her eyes scanning the oblivious crowd.

_I just pray neither of us lose our wands tonight_, she thought as she joined Sophie in dancing. Breathless, but enjoying herself more than she had in years, Althea lost track of time as the DJ played each new heavy bass and synthesizer-filled song. Sirius had not returned, but Althea was not too concerned. _I'll collect him from the loo_, she thought, tactfully removing Sophie's husband—George's—hand from her bum. _A quick Sobering Charm and he won't be sick all over Northfield_.

Sophie roughly placed her hands upon Althea's forearms. "I need a drink!" she demanded and pulled Althea toward the booths.

"How did we ever do this multiple times a week?" Althea wondered, impressed at the energy and stamina of the crowd.

Sophie shrugged. "You haven't had enough," she said as she messily poured Althea a glass of champagne.

Catching her breath, Althea nodded in thanks as she took the glass. _I wanted to find oblivion_, she thought as the cool, tart fizzy liquid touched her lips. _We almost found it together_. Notorious. Young, rich, and aware of their good looks, the two women avoided all things responsible and sought the sensual. It was easy when one had another on which to feed—one with equal bitterness and the rage at loss. The two women spent many nights in the early eighties commiserating in their pain, and after the tears, found solace in mind clouding drink and deafeningly loud music. They were partners in their recklessness and forever bonded in their self-destruction. _Yes, I'll need more to forget how huge a failure I am_, she thought, holding out her glass for more champagne. Sophie laughed and spilt some champagne upon Althea's hand. _I couldn't keep Prudence at_ _Hogwarts_.

"Stephen!" Sophie shouted happily, holding up the bottle of champagne and a glass.

Sirius nodded. "Fantastic!" he laughed as—hands in pockets—he strolled toward the two women.

He slipped his arm around Althea's waist and kissed her cheek.

"You were gone long," Althea remarked and placed her glass upon the table.

"Was I?" he asked, scratching his chin. "Sorry."

"Probably had some business to attend to," Sophie teased. She sniffed and mockingly wiped her nose.

Sirius frowned. "Sorry?"

Sophie let out a laugh of surprise.

Althea placed her hands upon his chest. "Don't worry about it," she said, smoothing his collar. "Anyway, where were you?"

Sirius took her hands and kissed them before he placed them around his neck. "I love you," he said, resting his forehead against hers.

"That's not what I—" she laughed and stopped. She spotted the jagged corner of a piece of paper—with two numbers visible in blue ink—jutting out from his pocket. She quickly retracted her hands and stepped back.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "My love—"

"You didn't," she said, her eyes focused upon the piece of paper. "You wouldn't—after everything—"

"What?"

"Where were you?"

Sirius did not answer.

Althea asked louder and with greater insistence, "Where were you?"

Sirius sighed, "Not here, right—"

Sophie's eyes widened slightly at what was to come. She raised her champagne glass to Althea and backed away.

Althea growled. "I've risked everything for you!" she shouted, but the throbbing bass drowned out her voice. "Everything!"

Sirius, perplexed, reached for Althea's arm. "I reckon we should—"

Althea pulled herself away from him—the momentum carrying her into the table behind them. She caught herself before she fell, the bottles toppling over behind her.

"Which one of these slags, hmm?" she asked, pointing to the dancing crowd behind them. "She looks your type—"

Sirius groaned, bringing his hand to his face.

Althea made a noise of disgust. "Right," she muttered and teetered past him.

Althea gently pushed her way through the crowd toward the doors. She smiled and apologized at every nudge and elbow. She smoothed her dress and tousled her hair before the bouncer opened the doors. _He'd have to be an idiot to follow me_, she thought at the burst of flashbulbs in the night sky. God, it had been ages—over a decade—since Althea had to make such a walk. Her head bent, she refused to make eye contact with any glaring lens, and focused upon her heels contacting the pavement.

"Althea!"

Althea's eyes widened—she did not stop. "Idiot," she whispered, barely moving her lips.

"Lady Morrigan!"

Althea winced at the murmuring of the paparazzi.

"Forgive me," Sirius shouted—and Althea sneered at the imagined smirk, "Lady Northfield!"

Althea stopped, taking a half step to stabilize herself.

Sirius's deliberate footsteps caught up to her. "What's all this?" he asked quietly.

Althea turned to face him. "Oh, my earring!" she said, loud enough for them to hear. "Bloody hell," she continued, placing her fingertips against her earlobe, "I'd hate to lose such a lovely thing…a gift from Gran." She held out her hand. "Thank you," she said, pretending to retrieve her earring. "Now, sod off," she whispered through her smile.

Bemused, Sirius shook his head.

"Look about, _Stephen_, and walk away," she said and turned away.

"I'm just the son of your groundskeeper, then?" he shouted as so the paparazzi would hear.

A wave of warm mortification flushed her skin.

"You want what we had as children, I know it," he said as Althea's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Don't you remember? That summer we were seventeen," he said and Althea closed her eyes—fighting the urge to hex him before Muggles. "I will never forget!"

Althea let out a gasp of frustration and reached into her purse. "Right," she muttered and grasped her wand.

Althea held aloft her wand, hidden by her hand. Suddenly, she heard a _bang!_ and the roar of the Knight Bus engine. The purple bus squealed to a stop before her, and she wrinkled her nose at the smell of heated tires. She cringed at the loud release of air from the hydraulics and waited—tapping her heel against the pavement—for the door to open.

"What are you getting at?" Sirius chided, grasping her elbow. "You've just compromised—"

"They think it a taxi," she said, nodding toward the group. A few lamented at the taxi, but most were photographing the newest arrival to the club—a young starlet. "See—"

The door to the Knight Bus opened, and a young man in a purple uniform stepped onto the pavement. "I'm Jennings—"

Althea climbed onto the bus, ignoring the young man's introduction. "Northfield Hall, Leicestershire," she said, eying the beds. She frowned, pointing to the beds. "Is one…?"

"One Galleon and five Sickles," the young man said, "and for two Sickles more—"

"Right," she sighed, rummaging through her purse.

"Here, mate," Sirius said with a small smile, handing the man the fare, "and we'll take the hot chocolate."

Sirius, still grasping Althea's elbow, guided her toward one of the beds.

"Let go," she demanded in a whisper.

"Badly done," Sirius said as the two sat. "He was nothing but—"

"Are you to scold me?" she said and yelped when the bus jolted forward. "Bloody—" she began and dug her fingers into the mattress as the bus accelerated. "I should hex you—I _will_ hex you," she said—the bed swaying violently with each weave in and out of traffic. "You've embarrassed me. Made me the fool," she continued and laughed knowingly, narrowing her eyes. "Oh, only you'd choose a Muggle. Can't hex her, then…but I can hex you—"

Sirius closed his eyes and swallowed. "What are you getting at?"

The young man lifted the _Daily Prophet_ to cover his face.

"Where were you?" she asked once more. "It is a simple question and you've refused to answer it!"

Sirius licked his lips. "I can explain everything once we're at Northfield—"

"Enough," she murmured and went to stand—she fell backward onto the bed. "Oi, you there!" she said, bringing a hand to her forehead. "Stop this bloody bus!"

"Ma'am, we're not—"

"I don't care," she said, sitting up. "Stop it at once!"

Suddenly, the sounds of grinding gears, screeching tires, and steam filled her ears. The bus lurched forward and Althea grasped the bed to keep from the floor. The two other passengers, the driver, and the conductor silently stared at her. Althea stood from the bed and straightened her skirt.

"I'd like off, please," she said, clutching her purse to her chest.

The conductor sighed, shared a look with the driver, and motioned toward the door. The door opened. Althea walked along the small aisle amid the stares of the small group. She murmured her thanks to the conductor upon reaching him and clung to the railing as she carefully descended the stairs and into the night.

Althea wrinkled her nose at the suburban surroundings. "Where am I?" she whispered—the lampposts dimly illuminated the semi-detached houses.

"Althea—"

"Leave me alone, Black," she said, folding her arms.

"You haven't a clue where we are—"

"Do you?" she pressed and began to walk. "Why must you—" she began and growled, walking along the hedgerows. "The first girl that shows any interest—I've _lied_ for you, Black. I risk Azkaban, and you're off to the couches with some tart—"

Sirius let out a laugh of exasperation. "You think—you're mental," he muttered and his hand grasped Althea's arm. "Maybe you'll Splinch your mouth, and you'll listen—"

Althea's arm began to twist and soon her entire body contorted in Side-Along Apparition. Althea growled as she tumbled to the cold marble floor of Northfield.

"Here," Sirius said, holding out his hands.

Althea slapped his hands away and struggled to stand. She wobbled and swayed as she stood before him in the dimly lit entrance hall. Forty-five minutes. It was plenty of time to break her heart. _Probably that friend of Sophie, that awful model_, she thought, pushing away his advances. _She_ _couldn't keep her hands to herself_. Althea turned to walk toward the staircase. How could he do that to her? After all she had done for him! _The first woman that shows any interest in him, that bastard's off to the couches, the loo, or the bloody gutter_, she thought and threw her purse across the entrance hall. _He was always eager for attention_.

She heard his footsteps behind her. "Althea, Althea, my love—"

Althea spun to face him. "Don't," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I want you out of my home."

"You don't mean that—"

"Yes, I do," she said, folding her arms. "Get out."

"Althea—"

She growled with frustration. "Why won't you tell me where you were?" she asked, slapping her hand against her thigh. "It's a simple question and you've refused to answer!"

Sirius blinked and swayed. "I know that tonight my actions are suspicious," he explained and rubbed his forehead.

"Are they?"

"But it was for you," he said in earnest, looking into her eyes, "and for Prudence."

Althea frowned. "What do you mean?"

Sirius sighed. His expression bore the pain of someone with grave knowledge—knowledge he wished to share, but was reluctant to do so. Her heart should have leapt with relief at the error of her drunken conclusion, but instead, her abdomen tightened in anxiety. It was the reason he returned to England—she just knew it. _What did you do, Sirius Black_, she wondered, taking a step forward. _What did you do for us_?

"It had to do with that talk with Gran, right?"

Sirius nodded solemnly.

Althea crossed her arms. "What did you do?" she asked, massaging her upper arms to pacify her apprehension.

Sirius sighed and closed his eyes. "Sealed my fate as the patriarch of the most noble and ancient family," he explained and opened his eyes.

Althea raised an eyebrow, confused.

"I reclaimed my inheritance," he said softly.

"But you were—"

"No, I wasn't," he said, shaking his head. "I was disinherited until my loving grandfather reinstated me as heir." He removed the jagged piece of paper from his pocket. "Look," he said, showing her the small piece of paper with three numbers, "it's the vault at Gringott's."

"I don't want your money. I never wanted—we decided—"

"I know," he said, holding up his hands in front of him. "I know what we promised, and I never want her to know my boyhood home, but," he continued, and stepped closer, "I can now…provide for her in ways I couldn't before."

"This isn't about money, is it?" she asked and bit her bottom lip.

"No," he murmured, rubbing his cheek, "I can protect her."

Althea frowned. "Why would she—"

"There was talk in Azkaban about Voldemort," he said quietly, and hesitated before he placed his hands upon her shoulders. "He's weak, but—"

"He will return," she finished.

Sirius nodded and what felt like ice water washed her insides. She gasped and covered her mouth.

He pulled her closer to him. "My love, there is a great chance he won't return," he said, massaging her shoulders, "but if he does return, she will be safe."

Althea swallowed hard at the thought of Voldemort's return. What followers were left? Why would they have waited so long? She remembered the last three years of Hogwarts and the disturbing happenings. Could Pettigrew have orchestrated those occurrences because Harry Potter had returned to the magical world? He was the reason for Voldemort's defeat, after all. _I had Dumbledore swear to Prudence's safety_, she thought as Sirius kissed her forehead. _God, the thought of that hateful rat in the same House as our daughter! Did he see her? Did he recognize her_? Althea shivered.

"I'd do anything for her, Sirius," she said, gazing into his dulled grey eyes, "and I'd expect you to do the same."

"Thank you," he murmured.

Althea bit her bottom lip as she looked at his collar. "So, you didn't?

"No."

Althea rested her forehead against his shoulder. "God, I'm such an idiot."

Sirius laughed quietly. "Sophie's friends didn't help much, did they?" he remarked quietly, gliding his hands up and down her back. "I reckon I should've placed a Repelling Charm upon the seat of my trousers."

Althea giggled and smiled to herself. "Always want what I have."

Suddenly, the entrance hall was fully illuminated. Sirius groaned as Althea pulled away from him. She winced and gently rubbed her eyes as they adjusted to the brightness.

"Bloody hell," Sirius muttered, roughly rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands.

"Althea Rosemary."

"Damn," Althea murmured, stomping her bare foot against the floor. "Bloody old woman!"

Gran descended the staircase—still in her clothes from that evening's World Cup—pale with anger. Althea felt as if she were seventeen again. Must she explain herself? Sirius placed his arm around Althea's waist.

Sirius eyed Gran warily. "What do you want?"

Gran walked forward and, her voice low, she asked, "Where have you been?"

Althea's head jerked back from surprise. She noticed Gran's hands were trembling. _What happened_, she wondered as Gran clasped her trembling hands in front of her. _Where is Afina_?

"At Sophie's birthday," she said quickly, "but—"

"London!" she breathed, her eyes large with astonishment. "You could've been seen!"

Sirius shook his head. "The charms and spells are still in place," he said, smiling to himself. "The place was very Muggle."

"A nightclub," she said and folded her arms—narrowing her eyes at the couple.

"_Yes_," Althea replied with some annoyance, "a disgraceful nightclub. You'll be happy to know I wasn't the one dancing upon the tables this time…it was Sophie. Now, go and ring up Lady A so you can scheme to avert a scandal."

"The only scandal is your willful disregard for your safety!"

"Are we done?" Althea asked, crossing her arms. "We're here, and safe, and Aurors aren't Apparating to Northfield as we speak with their wands at the ready," she continued and stifled a yawn. "I've had such an exhausting day…I'm aching for my bed."

"That would be lovely," Sirius said and yawned. "Come on, love," he said, placing his hand upon the small of her back, "let's leave Gran to sulk."

Althea looked around the floor and groaned, slapping her hand against her forehead. "Did I Apparate without my shoes?"

"Splinched, I think," Sirius said as he guided her toward the staircase. "You've all your toes?"

Althea pulled a face—wiggling all ten toes. "Very much so," she said as they passed the old woman. "Goodnight, Gran."

"I believe you should cast a Sobering Charm."

Althea stopped. "I'll sleep it off, thanks," she replied and frowned. She turned to face Gran and furrowed her eyebrows, as she asked, "Aren't you supposed to be at the World Cup, old woman?"

Gran inhaled a deep breath. "For once, in your life, Althea Rosemary, do something I ask of you," she begged and Althea rolled her eyes. "Never mind," Gran muttered and pointed her wand at Althea. "_Sobrius_."

Althea felt the warm, liquid sensation start at the top of her head and leisurely flow throughout her body. She slowly blinked as the dullness and fog lifted from her head. She sighed pleasantly. _You were always the best at Sobering Charms, old woman_, she thought as Sirius adjusted his collar. Gran, in rapid succession, cast further charms at the couple—Althea's sheer black stockings were mended, her hair tidied, and to her dismay, her silver dress lengthened. _Oh, Afina isn't going to like that, is she_, she thought, the beaded hem now brushing the tops of her knees.

Sirius let out a yelp. "It was fine the way it was," he muttered, unbuttoning his collar.

"Now," Gran said quietly, stepping forward, "I think it best to tell Althea goodnight and to leave."

Bemused, Sirius heatedly asked, "What?"

"Gran, what is going—" Althea wondered, but stopped as she heard footsteps at the staircase.

She slowly turned to face the two feminine figures near the top of the staircase. Her eyes gravitated to the younger of the two, and she looked upon those lively grey eyes dimmed from tears and caught her breath.

"My God," she breathed, her gaze unwavering, "what happened?"

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! I hope you're enjoying this story so far. Please feel free to leave comments and review. What is in store for Althea? Gran's fantastic idea.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Althea's fingers found Sirius's hand and she grasped his hand tightly—unaware if she caused him discomfort—for her attention was directed at Prudence. Prudence, pale and shaken, slowly descended the steps with Afina's hand upon her middle back. Prudence did not look at Althea. Instead, her eyes, reddened from crying, looked to her feet upon the stairs.

"What is going on?" Althea asked, her throat painfully tight.

Gran shifted from one foot to the other. Afina sniffed, stroking Prudence's back.

Althea felt a peculiar numbness in the tips of her fingers and realized Sirius was squeezing her hand with the same ferocity. Ghostly pale, and with his mouth open, Sirius's attention could not be swayed from Prudence's form. Althea wiggled and yanked her hand free and tenderly rubbed his lower back.

"I—I should go," he muttered, small tears welling in his eyes.

Althea shook her head. "No, no, something happened."

Sirius shook his head. "Really, I should—"

"No," she said, her stare steadfast. "I want you here."

Sirius looked from Althea to the staircase and inhaled a sharp breath.

She took Sirius's hand in hers. "Come," she said, stroking the back of his hand. "I want to introduce you."

Althea slowly guided Sirius toward the bottom of the staircase where Prudence stood. Prudence, still wearing her clothes from the World Cup, continued to stare at the floor. She had never seen Prudence so despondent and it frightened her. _God, what happened to you_, Althea wondered, feeling a terrible, anxious ache in her chest.

Althea inhaled deeply. "Prudence?"

Prudence slowly looked up—her lips quivering into a frown.

Althea fought every urge to touch her, to cradle her in her arms. "Prudence, what happened?"

Prudence glanced at Gran. Gran clasped her trembling hands tightly before her. Prudence did not answer.

Althea's heart filled with dread as Gran's trembling became more violent. Did she tell Prudence the truth of her parentage? Was that little girl before them so crestfallen because she had learned the truth of her origins, and had she concluded that her mother refused to acknowledge the daughter of a supposed murderer? Was that shame? She opened her mouth to speak, but only a quiet, sharp gasp left Althea's lips.

"It's best if we talk in your quarters, Auntie," Afina said, smoothing the curls of Prudence's long black hair. "It's more comfortable, I think."

"Afina," Althea said, placing her hand upon Afina's arm, "please, tell me what is wrong. What happened?"

Afina closed her eyes and sighed. "We're all fine, but there was an incident at the World Cup—"

"The World Cup?" she repeated. "What could've happened?" Althea gasped. "A spell backfired, and the tents—it's why you're here, isn't it?"

Afina shifted uncomfortably—avoiding Althea's gaze. "I think we'd all be more comfortable if we talked upstairs."

"Yes," Gran muttered, nodding, "it would be best."

Althea swallowed as she nodded. _An incident at the World Cup_, she thought, as the group walked along the corridor filled with mirrors and gilded chandeliers that illuminated eighteenth century landscape art. Her mind mulled over the possibilities, and each scenario was more dreadful than the last. Prudence had returned to Northfield under dubious circumstances. They were a somber quintet, and a backfired spell would not produce such distress. _I haven't seen Gran this upset—this terrified—since she told me of George_. Althea placed her shaky hand upon her abdomen. _What did you do old woman_? Sirius numbly followed at her side—his hands in his pockets—his eyes downcast. The corridor seemed to lengthen with each step, the sense of dread tightened in her chest. She felt as though she were on the boat to Azkaban. _What Prudence must think of me_, she thought as the group entered her sitting room. _She'll think me a coward and all those awful things that she should think. She has a right to them_.

Althea's quarters were very different—very modern in sensibility—from the rest of her house. It was a tranquil place where Althea—in fulfilling her duties to her grandmother—could escape. Black and white photographs of her friends, family, and favorite places hung in large and small frames upon the moss green walls. A large abstract nude painting—painted by Althea—hung above the mantel, intricately carved with roses and bees into the fine wood. Althea gestured for all to sit upon the overstuffed cream-colored sofas.

Prudence, quiet, chipped at her green nail polish.

Althea was the first to speak, "I apologize for my rudeness, Prudence. I'd like you to meet my friend, Stephen."

Prudence looked at Sirius without response. Sirius—his eyes unblinking—sat in silence. Althea gently nudged him.

"Hello," he muttered.

Prudence shrugged and nervously chipped at the nail polish upon her thumb.

Althea turned to Gran, who sat slumped in the chair—her face in her hands. "What happened?" she asked. "You were to spend the night in Northfield Tent?"

Gran nodded slowly. "Yes, we were," she said, "but the riot—"

"Riot?" she repeated and felt a momentary relief that her secret was safe. "The winning fans get a bit out of hand?"

"No, Auntie," Afina said and licked her lips. "It wasn't like that."

Althea looked to Sirius—he shrugged.

"We were celebrating the victory in the Ministry of Ireland's tent," Afina began to explain—her face ashen. "We heard screams over the music—I thought a few fans were getting out of hand, but when they became louder, and we heard…we went outside…the smell…." Afina roughly wiped her eyes. "The tents were destroyed and it was total chaos," she continued and sniffed. "It was like—"

Althea nodded solemnly. "Who did this?" she asked, looking from Afina to Gran.

"Death Eaters," Gran said, shielding her face with her trembling hand. "Death Eaters attacked—"

Sirius immediately stood—his hands balled into fists. "You're joking?" he said, breathless—his eyes wide. "You can't just say—"

Gran violently shook her head. "No!"

"Old woman—"

"Sit _down_," Althea said, pulling at Sirius's jacket sleeve.

Sirius shook off Althea's hand and, smoothing his hair from his face, walked toward the fireplace.

"Are you sure?" she asked, wary of a violent outburst from Sirius.

"They tortured a Muggle family for all to see!" Gran said, letting her hand fall.

"Children," whispered Prudence.

Althea quickly covered her mouth, and Sirius growled mournfully.

"I'm so sorry," Althea said, the tears painfully accumulating in the corners of her eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to witness that. We never—"

His back turned to them—his hands bracing himself upon the mantel—Sirius asked, "What is being done? Did they capture them?"

"We don't know," Afina said, "but the Ministry was just as scared."

"Like always," Sirius muttered. He quickly turned and sighed resolutely when he looked upon Althea.

"_No_," Althea said, standing. "You're not going out there—"

"Althea, look," he said," I know—"

"I think the Aurors are capable," she said, stepping forward.

"Do you?" he remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"_Don't_," she said through gritted teeth. She gestured with her eyes toward Prudence and took his arm. "Let's not further upset our guest," she whispered, and attempted to coerce him back to the sofa.

Sirius relented and followed Althea to the sofa. _Death Eaters_. Althea remembered the conversation with Sirius in the entrance hall—Voldemort's supporters were eager for his return. Her stomach twisted upon itself. She, too, had heard—what she thought were outlandish—rumors that Voldemort's demise was not complete, but that he was weakened and waiting for his time to return…for those most loyal to help him. Was this their first message? _The most loyal? They're dead or in Azkaban_. Althea frowned. _Peter_. She knew Sirius thought so as well. _He will leave, and he will find him_, she thought and felt the hair upon her arms stand on end from Sirius's rage.

Prudence was white.

"Prudence, what is wrong?" Althea asked.

Prudence looked ahead of her as she spoke, "I saw it—this—this skull in the sky…with a snake."

Althea caught her breath.

"Someone cast the Dark Mark?" he said, his expression one of anguish, as Althea placatingly stroked his arm. A tiny electrical shock to her fingertips caused her to wince.

Gran nodded.

Sirius trembled with fury. _Please, my love_, she thought and pleaded with her eyes for him to calm down, _you'll frighten our Prudence_. Sirius, unnaturally pale and his jaw clenched, looked away.

"Mind your anger," she whispered and gently squeezed his hand. "You'll upset her more."

Sirius reluctantly nodded, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Small sobs could be heard across from them and Althea, heartbroken, forcefully swallowed her tears. Sirius reached into the interior breast pocket of his jacket, took out his handkerchief, and handed it to Prudence.

"Thank you," she whispered and wiped her eye.

"Yeah," he murmured absently.

"Gran," Althea began to ask, and discretely sniffed, "how did Prudence come to Northfield, then?"

"In the commotion, our dear Afina, spotted Prudence, alone. The Rourkes were nowhere to be found at that moment—"

"And you just took her?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Someone could be looking for her—"

"I did what needed to be done," Gran interrupted and frowned at Prudence. "The poor girl shouldn't have witnessed it at all…. I have taken the liberty to notify the family Prudence was staying with; they were panicked when Prudence was separated from them at the celebration—"

_You went to look at the winged horses again_, she thought as Gran tenderly patted Prudence's hand.

"They were grateful—very grateful, indeed—and I've given an open invitation to stay at Northfield for as long as she would like," she said, her eyes meeting Althea. "I didn't think you would mind…we do enjoy her company."

Afina nodded. "Very much so."

"And her parents?"

"I didn't think they would mind," she said. "I believe they would thank me."

Althea shifted uneasily upon the sofa, annoyed that Gran could make her uncomfortable upon a very comfortable sofa.

Afina yawned. "It's a little after three," she said, looking at her watch. She forced a tired smile and leaned close to Prudence. "Have you ever stayed up this late?"

Prudence shook her head.

"Not even," she asked, darting her eyes from side to side, "at Hogwarts?"

Prudence bit her bottom lip and shook her head.

"Come on," Afina said and stood. "I'll show you to your room."

"My old bedroom," Althea offered and went to stand. "It has a lovely view. I'll—"

Gran held up her hand. "Althea Rosemary, I would like to speak to you."

Prudence hesitated briefly before she stood.

Althea roughly sat upon the sofa and folded her arms. "Right," she sighed and smiled weakly at Prudence. "I'll be there shortly."

Prudence nodded and followed Afina toward the door. Afina let Prudence exit first and as she stood at the door, she winked at Althea.

"Don't worry, Auntie," she said, closing the door, "we'll be all right."

_Our Prudence staying here_, she thought and nodded to Afina. Despite the horrific events of that evening, it was very difficult for Althea not to feel some hope and happiness that her daughter would spend the night and probably a good part of the morning and afternoon with them. _We'll have this one day_, she thought, hearing the _click _of the door.

She took Sirius's hand. "I'm so sorry," she said, stroking his long, thin fingers.

"Don't," he said, taking his hand from her. He folded his arms. "Don't touch me."

Althea let out a small sob. She felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at the reminder that for Prudence, Sirius Black was Dark Wizard and murderer, and that he would probably be nothing more. She bent forward and covered her face with her hands, and allowed her tears to fall freely. _I knew—I knew he would never truly forgive me_, she thought as she shook. _What I've done to him…what I've done to her_!

"London!" Gran said over Althea's sobs. "How irresponsible can you be, Althea Rosemary? And you—_you_who are wanted by the Ministry! You are not children anymore—"

Sirius sighed loudly. "Old woman, you are not my mother, and even then, I didn't listen to her."

"Grow up," Gran replied. "Neither of you are fit to be Prudence's—"

"Shut it!" Althea demanded, lowering her hands. She sniffed and wiped her face with the palm of her hand. "I will not have this bickering while Prudence is here, right?" She ran her fingers through her hair and gently tugged at the roots as she groaned. "God, that she saw that!"

Sirius leaned forward. "You have to know who cast it."

Gran shook her head. "We left almost immediately," she explained and pursed her lips. "We've waited for you, Althea Rosemary, ever since, but you decided to indulge in recklessness at a London nightclub…such a wonderful example to set for your daughter—"

"Next time, I'll owl the Death Eaters to make bloody well sure that I'm home for the next attack," she said and felt sick to her stomach. "Next attack?"

Sirius nodded to himself. "I'm going out," he said with resolve. "I'll discover—"

"You certainly will not!" Althea said, her voice slightly higher. "Your daughter is here—"

"All the more reason to," he said and frowned deeply. "I shouldn't stay."

"Bollocks!" Althea said, standing. "Your disguise is intact, and if you're so afraid of discovery, why don't you transform, then?" she added, stepping over his feet. "I'm sure she'd be very pleased with your Animagus shape."

Sirius scratched his chin. "That would be exhausting,"

"I reckon you can manage," she said as she walked toward the door. "You're not a weak wizard, are you?"

Sirius muttered under his breath.

"Althea Rosemary, I am not finished—"

"And I don't care what you have to say on the matter, Gran," she said as she turned the doorknob. "As her father, he has just as much a right to be here…and never forget that."

Althea did not wait for a reply and exited her quarters, where she was met in the corridor to a beaming Afina.

"I want to cast Memory Charms on them," Afina whispered as the two walked toward Althea's adolescent bedroom. "She's brilliant!"

Althea grinned with pride as she continued to fix herself for Prudence. "She is," she said at the door to her old bedroom, "but mind yourself."

Afina nodded. "I'll figure out a way to keep her until the end of holidays," she said, her eyes scheming.

"I wish we could," she whispered and sighed sadly. "The Parkers won't let us have more than a day," she added and furrowed her eyebrows. "They'll probably think we planned this—that it isn't real."

"No," Sirius said and Althea startled.

"No Apparating inside!" she said, resting her hand upon her chest.

Sirius shrugged. "I'll owl a copy of tomorrow's _Prophet _to them," he said and placed his hand upon the small of her back. "Well, aren't we going to welcome her?"

Althea raised an eyebrow.

Sirius smiled as he knocked upon the door. "Call me a 'weak wizard'? Likely," he said and waited for Prudence's reply.

Althea was the first to enter the room and smiled warmly at Prudence who sat upon the large cherry four-poster bed.

"Ah, memories," Sirius whispered, looking around the room.

_Indeed_, she thought, herself enjoying the memories that very lavender room evoked. At sixteen, her boredom and angst at her confinement quickly vanished at Sirius's visits upon his broom outside her windows—his smiling face looking up at her—eager to rescue her from Gran's oppression. Althea sighed wistfully as she remembered the low hum of Sirius's motorbike of one particular April evening. _How many times did I sneak out those windows_, she thought as the couple stood before Prudence. _We're so very lucky no Death Eater followed us_.

"May I?" Althea asked, motioning toward the bed.

Prudence nodded and curled her knees to her chest.

"I wanted to welcome you properly to my home," she said, as the couple sat upon the cream-colored duvet with tiny embroidered lavender flowers. "I would've liked you here under more happy circumstances," she added and looked around the room. She frowned faintly at the plain lavender walls (Gran never let her decorate with inappropriate music groups—Althea saved that for Hogwarts). "It's been ages since I've been in this room."

"It's lovely," Prudence said, resting her chin against her knees.

"Thank you," she said and picked at an embroidered flower. "I did buy this with my schoolteacher's salary…Hogwarts pays handsomely, you know."

Prudence let out a little laugh. "Likely," she murmured and frowned pensively.

Althea looked upon Prudence sympathetically. "You don't know what to make of it, do you?"

Prudence nodded. "What was that—that thing?" she asked, wrinkling her brow. "You said it was—oh I forget."

The couple shared a hesitant look.

"The Dark Mark," Sirius finally answered.

Prudence murmured the answer as if committing it to memory. "But why cast it?"

Althea's stomach tightened at Prudence's question. How much would they tell her? She was a girl—until this school year—naïve in magic, and now she was exposed—much to Althea's chagrin—to its darker elements. Before her, a gloomy twelve-year-old girl sat, and the one answer that would satisfy her would cause her distress. Did Sirius share her hesitation? It was strange to think of them as a unified front—that for one brief night, they would look after Prudence.

Sirius rubbed his hands together. "If Althea will let me, I'll explain," he said, and paused—carefully considering his words, "she should know these things."

Althea shook her head. "You'll give her nightmares."

"I'll have nightmares about it, anyway," Prudence replied, sitting up.

"I don't think it wise—"

"I want to know—"

"I think it best," Sirius interrupted and whispered to Althea, "instead of looking for those answers elsewhere."

Althea understood. "Right," she sighed, giving Sirius a warning look, "just the basics."

Sirius lightly chewed his bottom lip. "It was used by Voldemort's supporters," he explained, leaning forward. "Do you know who he is?"

Prudence nodded—her eyes widened slightly. "You say his name," she breathed. "I've never heard anyone say his name."

Sirius shrugged—a faint, confident smile upon his lips. "Why wouldn't I?" he remarked and his expression returned to a grim state. "It was meant to scare—just like tonight. It meant something terrible had happened."

"Like someone dying?"

An odd shiver passed across Sirius's face. "Yes, it could be used for that," he answered, "and by what happened at the World Cup, it served its purpose. It was to scare everyone."

"Probably whoever cast it, didn't like the Ministry using Muggle land," Althea said.

"That is possible," Sirius said, nodding.

Her bottom lip quivered. "Does that mean he's coming back?"

"It seems to be an isolated incident," he answered, resting his hand behind Althea. "You'd agree?"

"Yes," Althea said and noticed that Prudence wore the ring Sirius had given Althea on her sixteenth birthday. The modest amethyst sparkled in the dim light. "It hasn't happened in almost thirteen years."

"But—"

"I'm sure the Ministry will sort it out," Althea said and was thankful Sirius did not display his derision.

"There was a crowd—a large crowd," she said, looking ahead of her. "They laughed at that family…it could've been my family."

Althea refused to look at Sirius.

Prudence, tears streaming down her cheeks, asked, "Who would do that to children? They were so small!"

_The Parkers be damned_, she thought and did what her body was aching for her to do—she placed a hand upon Prudence's cheek to wipe away her tears. Prudence, heaving great sobs, quickly collapsed into Althea's arms. Althea let out a little gasp as she felt Prudence's arms around her neck, and she wrapped her arms around her daughter, holding her closely. _How I've wanted to hold you_, she thought, swallowing her tears. Althea closed her eyes and sought to remember every minute detail about this moment with her: the feeling of her frame against her—the way it perfectly huddled into her arms—her warm tears splashing against her skin and trickling along the contour of Althea's collarbone, and that at that moment, the only person who could comfort her and ease her fears was her true mother.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, gently rocking Prudence. "I'll never forgive who did this to you," she murmured as Prudence violently shook against her. "Come on, get it out, my darling. I won't stop you."

Sirius inhaled sharply. "Friends fought…I fought—almost _died_—so this wouldn't happen," he said and Althea felt him stand from the bed. "Now, they've gone and scared our little girl?" he spat and Althea prayed Prudence's sobbing kept her from hearing.

"Stephen, _please_," she warned, inhaling deeply the smell of Prudence's shampoo—she smelled faintly of strawberries.

Althea winced at the sound of the bedroom door slamming. Prudence pulled away and sniffed loudly. Althea tenderly wiped the tears from her cheeks and resisted the urge to kiss her forehead.

"Sometimes handkerchiefs have served their noble purpose long ago," she said, handing Prudence a box of tissues.

"Thank you," she said and blew her nose.

"Would you like me to draw you a bath?" she asked, wiping the wet curls from Prudence's face. "Whenever I was upset, Marie would draw me a bath to calm me."

Prudence hiccoughed. "It's late."

"It doesn't matter," she said, smoothing a curl behind Prudence's ear. "It will help you sleep, I think."

Prudence nodded.

_Sirius has probably left_, she thought as she adjusted the temperature of the water. Satisfied, she sat upon the edge of the pink claw-footed tub and watched it slowly fill. _He'll search for whoever did this, no doubt…and God help him. He's upset our Prudence_. Althea frowned—could it have been Pettigrew? _The Kiss is too good for him_, she thought, as a large lavender scented bubble popped. _Voldemort help him, for what I would do to him for old time's sake. He has no idea of the horrors I would inflict upon him…and if Sirius were there…that son of a bitch would beg for the Kiss_.

"I think this will do nicely," she said, appreciating her work.

As Prudence bathed, Althea prepared Prudence's bedclothes for the night. As she fluffed one of the down pillows, she wondered if Mrs. Parker would do such a thing. She assumed a mother would do such a thing, but she could barely remember her own mother and Gran never truly expressed maternal feelings toward Althea (she had reasoned Gran's protective nature came from her ego and not from some sense of familial fidelity). No, her idea of what a mother should do came from those few years she had with Marie and Mrs. Evans. It was something and her imagination filled in the rest. She lightly chewed her bottom lip—was she being too motherly? She paused as she smoothed duvet—she could not deny that unsettling feeling. _If I were Mrs. Parker, I'd be at the door of Northfield by now to see my daughter_.

"You can't fault them," she whispered, laying out the pajamas Afina picked. "They are Muggles, after all."

_Still_, she thought, as she arranged the comb and brush on the dressing table, _it was a riot_. Althea caught sight of herself in the mirror—to the small tattoo on her wrist. She allowed her forefinger to glide lightly over the bird. _We do make it a habit of doing just about anything to protect those we love_.

"Would you be happy?" she asked, staring at the closed bathroom door.

_No time for tears_, she thought and sniffed. _She needs you to make her feel safe again_. Althea remembered the first time she witnessed the Dark Mark. She had read news articles and listened to Lily and James description of it, but as much as she believed herself acquainted with and prepared for the image, those false comforts did not prepare her for the truly terrifying image in person. _I was eighteen_, she thought as she walked the lonely, darkened Northfield corridor. After a brutal day at St. Mungo's (she spent the day and early night in triage after the attack on a dance hall), a tired and weak Althea managed to make her way to the Leaky Cauldron for needed drinks with her colleagues when she saw the glittering, green skull and serpent. Terrified, and yet mesmerized, she stood in the street, staring up at it until she felt the arm of James Potter around her waist and the distinct feeling of Side-Along Apparition. _We were so young_, she thought, the door to her quarters ajar. _Too young to understand what we were fighting and how much it would cost us_.

Althea entered her bedroom to find Sirius, sitting on the floor against her bed—his knees to his chest and his arms at his sides. He darkly stared ahead of him. She sat upon the bed, but Sirius did not recognize her presence.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius," she said, her fingertips gliding through the thick black hair and tracing small circles against his scalp. "If I had known—"

"Prudence isn't returning to the Parkers," he said and sniffed.

"Ridiculous," she said and stopped stroking his hair. "Maybe I should give you some of Prudence's Sleeping Potion."

"Where are they, Althea?" he asked and bit the inside of his cheek. "Where are her mum and dad?"

Althea shrugged. "I thought the same, but Gran could've lied," she said, kicking her heel against the plush rug. "Maybe she hasn't told the Parkers."

Sirius shook his head. "That other family would've contacted them," he said and rested his head against her knee. "At least I'd hope so."

"As would I."

Sirius placed his palm upon her calf. "She's beautiful," he sighed. "My daughter…my Prudence." She could feel him inhale a breath.

Althea recognized the tone of longing in his voice—the expression of regret. His daughter, once an empty grave and then a worn box of photographs, was now flesh. He could not hold her or touch her, for he was nothing more than a stranger—a bystander, really. He did not have the cruel luxury of familiarity in the setting of Hogwarts.

Althea stopped tracing small circles against his scalp. "Would you've gone about it differently if you knew she lived?"

Sirius did not answer, but continued to stroke her slender calf.

"Right," she breathed and stood. She held out her hands for Sirius.

Sirius looked at her strangely.

"She needs you," she said, beckoning for Sirius to stand. "She's frightened, and she needs a large dog that is ready to growl at any attacker."

Sirius stood. "You understand it reverses my disguise?"

Althea nodded. "So? You have another one," she said and smiled. "I believe some would find your canine form more pleasing than the other. It didn't take you that long to transform into your present state—"

"It would take another five hours—"

"Well, I don't believe having Stephen hang about at night is a good thing," she said. "I reckon we should set some example."

Sirius smiled wryly. "It's thirteen years too late for that, my love."

Sirius transformed and trailed behind Althea as she entered her childhood bedroom. _I wish my Animagus form was so bloody convenient, _she thought. Prudence sat upon the bed underneath plush bedclothes. The bedclothes pulled to her chest, she weakly smiled at Althea.

"Thank you," Prudence said, tucking a thick black curl behind her ear. "The bath did help."

"You're welcome," Althea replied as Sirius's tail hit her leg. "I also thought you'd like some company."

Prudence looked over the edge of the bed and smiled.

"He's a good sort of dog," she explained, scratching him behind the ears. "Very tame. I've had him for ages."

"What's his name?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the dog.

Althea frowned, but soon laughed lowly. "Snuffles," she said and Sirius whimpered. "It's a silly name for him, don't you think?"

Prudence nodded. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the glass in Althea's hand.

"Oh," she said and held up the glass. "A very mild Sleeping Potion," she explained, handing the glass to Prudence. "It ensures only happy dreams."

"It can do that?" she asked, wrinkling her nose at the purple potion that sparkled with flecks of gold and silver.

Althea nodded. "I wouldn't give you something awful," she said as Sirius made himself comfortable upon the floor at the foot of the bed. "Go on."

Prudence with some hesitation sipped the purple sparkling liquid, but as the potion passed her lips, her hesitation subsided and she quickly downed the drink.

"There you are," Althea said taking the cup as Prudence yawned. "Now," she added, folding the bedclothes under Prudence's chin, "sleep well."

Prudence nodded as she closed her eyes. Althea's head jerked forward to give her a goodnight kiss. Instead, she smoothed a wrinkle from the bedclothes.

"Goodnight, my love," she whispered and kissed Sirius' snout.

Althea smiled as she looked upon the two people she loved most of all, asleep. _What an odd sort of family we are_, she thought as she closed the door.

* * *

**AN:**

Thank you so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The walls of the portrait gallery needed a fresh coat of paint. Althea ran her fingertips along the Turkish red wall and sighed. _Oh, that blasted documentary_, she thought, wrinkling her nose at the film of dust collected in the crevices of the ornate portrait frame of the 1st Viscount of Northfield.

"And this, is the red room," she murmured and stuck out her tongue. "All these bloody houses have a red room. It's standard issue."

_At least my family had the good sense to spare me from cherubs_, she thought, turning away from the wall of the oldest portraits and looking upon her grandfather and great-grandfather. _No, I'll just have various foreign governments at my door to collect their stolen antiquity_. Althea preferred the relaxed portrait of her grandfather that hung in Gran's apartment. With his brown hair slightly tousled and a handsome smirk, he lounged with ease inside the tent with the Nile River as its backdrop. Instead, the thirty-year-old Alexander Morrigan looked quite uncomfortable in the serene grounds of Northfield. _I'll ask to change portraits_, she thought, her smirk slowly mimicking her grandfather's. _I doubt Gran would agree—could create a scandal. The Lady Northfield dares to show the 11th Earl of Northfield with his collar unbuttoned…anarchy among the upper class_. Her smirk faltered when she thought to her grandfather's ignorance of Gran's deceit, and the proclamations of her own father that his elder brother was Gran's favorite.

"She fooled all of us," she murmured.

Her attention drifted to her father's portrait. He was young—not yet thirty—smartly dressed with his light brown hair perfectly combed, his features very much the matinee idol of the silver screen. _I wonder what you'd think of me_, she thought, as he looked down upon her with that pleasant smile. She frowned. _You'd probably be too busy to care_.

Suddenly, Althea's thoughts were broken by howls and shrieks of laughter as Prudence burst into the room—the furniture and priceless antiques clinked and jostled about. Smiling at the beautiful sound of Prudence's laughter, she quickly turned to see Prudence fling herself upon the center chaise with Sirius—at full speed—close behind. Prudence held up her hands, giggling and squealing, as Sirius—his tail wagging violently—attempted to lick her face.

Althea made a face. "Snuffles, really," she said and, with all her might, pulled Sirius from the chaise.

Sirius whimpered loudly.

Prudence smoothed the hair away from her face as she caught her breath. "It's all right," she said and grinned sympathetically at Sirius. "Don't cry, you silly dog!"

Althea wrinkled her nose at the muddy paw prints upon the lush red fabric. "Oh, Gran isn't going to like you, is she?" she said, roughly scratching his back. "No, she isn't!"

Prudence looked to the chaise—her eyes wide—and gasped. "I'm so sorry!"

Althea smiled as she removed her wand from her pocket. "No worries," she said and cast a Cleaning Charm.

Prudence smiled at the newly cleaned fabric.

"That old woman need never know," she continued and placed her wand in her pocket. She smoothed the skirt of her lilac dress. "Are you enjoying your stay?"

Prudence sighed happily. "It's fantastic!" she said and looked around the room. "I've gotten lost twice!"

Althea laughed quietly. "It's very easy to do," she said, sitting next to Prudence. "Thankfully, you have such an eager chaperone," she added as Sirius reclined at their feet.

"He's very silly."

"He excels in it."

Althea prayed that she would have longer than the morning to spend with Prudence. _No way will they let you stay past the afternoon_, she thought, enjoying the feeling of peace and completeness she felt in this moment. The little girl, who absorbed her new surroundings, had no idea the effect she had upon Althea and—mostly likely—would never know. _How I long for more days such as this_!

"That one is very old," Prudence said, pointing toward the wall in front of them.

Althea nodded. "Yes, it is."

Prudence brightly stood. "When was it painted?" she asked, walking closer to the oldest portrait in the collection.

"The sixteenth century," she answered, stepping over Sirius.

Prudence did not take her eyes off the portrait of the man dressed in Elizabethan clothing. "Who is it?"

"The 1st Baron Northfield," she said, frowning slightly at the baron's arrogant expression. "He spent his life terrorizing the Spanish for the Queen, and he retired very comfortably—well, until he was imprisoned in the Tower."

Prudence gasped.

Althea leaned close and whispered, "He somehow committed treason."

Prudence looked upon the Baron, open-mouthed. "Really?" she breathed and Althea smiled at her excitement. "What did he do?"

Althea shrugged. "Sneezed, probably," she answered and Prudence sighed with mild disappointment. "Or plundered the Spanish Main for himself…. I've never given much thought about him, actually." She looked from 1st Baron to the other portraits upon that wall. "Gran often must correct me about who's who of my dead relatives. Earls, Barons, Viscounts—it's all the same to me." She sighed with trepidation. "I'll ruin this documentary, I just know it," she muttered.

"A documentary?" she repeated with an eager and intrigued expression.

Althea pulled a face. "_The Great Gardens of England's Great Estates_, or some awful title like that," she said. "It's rubbish, if you ask me."

"I don't think so," Prudence said as she walked along portraits, narrowing her eyes at each one she passed. "Is this house really over four hundred years old?"

"No," she answered, following two steps behind Prudence. "It was built in the late seventeenth century. The original house partially burned."

Prudence gasped.

"If you visit the north corridor, you'll see a few of the original masonry and windows."

"North corridor," she repeated quietly.

"You're more than welcome to inspect the gardens, as well," she offered, adjusting the large vase full of crimson peonies upon the Georgian side table. "You might enjoy a broom ride by the lake."

Prudence frowned. "I don't have a broom."

Sirius lifted his head.

Althea clasped her hands behind her back. "I have an extra one."

Prudence smiled. "Who is this?" she asked, pointing to the good-looking, but arrogant man in mid-eighteenth century military garb.

"Ah," she said, rising and falling on the balls of her feet, "the 1st Earl of Northfield, George Morrigan. There were twelve before me…never managed to live long—lived dangerously…especially the first-born son—"

"Wow," Prudence whispered, her form already pre-occupied by another Morrigan ancestor.

Althea cocked her head to the side as she stared at the portrait. "Second sons, nephews, and cousins inherited," she said and wrinkled her nose at the spoils of war that surrounded the 1st Earl. "My family came to where it is because it conquered and commandeered."

Out of her periphery, she saw that Prudence had stopped at the portrait of her Uncle George. Her face furrowed, she looked up at the young man—no more than twenty-one—with black hair nobly swept from his creamy white brow except for a few strands that fell into his grey eyes. The dissimilarities between her father and George could not be more striking. No matter how she focused on the features that reminded her of Gran, that intangible, unnerving difference prevailed—that inborn arrogance so accustomed to the Black family. As Althea gazed up at the handsome young man in the RAF uniform, she wondered what reaction Prudence would have of discovering her truth. Did Prudence have any inkling she was different from her family—not only in magic but also in blood? Althea swallowed. _I would never want you to discover the way George did_, she thought as Prudence stepped forward, closer to the portrait of George.

"My Uncle George," she said, unsettled that Prudence seemed to take such a keen interest in this portrait, "a wizard who died in Germany in 1943."

"Oh."

"My Gran—a witch—married my Grand, a Muggle," she said, pointing to the portrait of her grandfather as a young man. "Unfortunately, I never met him, but I wish I could've." She smiled as she remembered the story her father told her about the archaeological dig he attended as a small boy with her grandfather. "He was quite bookish…a rare breed among this set. I reckon he was a rebel."

Prudence laughed.

"It's true," she said and winked. "I reckon Northfield breeds wanderlust," she said and paused, inhaling a breath—resolute in her next words, "I'll entertain you with more stories of my family at Hogwarts."

Prudence, biting her bottom lip as she grinned, rose up onto her toes. Althea silently cursed the Parkers for Prudence's ignorance.

"I'll tell you of my grandfather's expeditions to Egypt," she continued and Prudence's hands balled in to fists in anticipation. "He might've discovered a tomb—"

"Was it cursed?"

Althea shook her head and Prudence frowned. "I'm glad it wasn't," she said and turned toward her grandmother's portrait. "In some of those tombs, grave robbers have two heads!"

Prudence giggled at her side.

Althea smiled, but it transformed to a faint sneer, standing before the portrait of Gran in her late twenties. "And you've met her."

Prudence took a small step back.

"No, she never smiles," she said and laughed lowly. "She looks as if she's about to lecture me, doesn't she? 'Althea Rosemary, you were driving that obnoxious flying automobile, weren't you? You could've been seen!' Ha!"

Prudence turned to look at Althea. "Rosemary is my middle name, too."

"Oh," she breathed, "lovely."

"I hate it," she said, frowning. "A prudent herb."

"I never thought of it that way," she said, the corner of her mouth upturned into a smile. "It could've been worse, you know. It could've been Vulpecula—"

Prudence grasped her stomach, making retching noises.

_At least we had some sense_, she thought, sharing a look with Sirius. She was certain in his Animagus form that he was frowning at her.

Prudence stopped and began to wring her hands before her. "How—how should I address your Gran?"

Althea pursed her lips. "Old woman would be all right," she remarked and Prudence's frown deepened. "Ma'am…although, we all call her Gran, it would look silly, wouldn't it?"

Prudence shrugged.

"She wouldn't mind Gran, actually."

Prudence nodded.

"And you don't have to call me professor," she said, placing her hand upon her breast. "We're not at Hogwarts."

"What should I call you?"

_Mum. Mummy. Mother_.

"Althea, I think."

Prudence nodded. "And is this you?" she asked, pointing to Althea's portrait.

Althea looked upon the portrait of her twenty-year-old self and nodded. _I was two months pregnant_, she thought, looking to her left hand upon her abdomen and to the modest ruby ring. _I'd resisted so long sitting for my portrait. It was our little joke—our secret family portrait_. Her eyes wandered to Sirius at her side and to her other hand—upon its finger the amethyst ring—lost in his black fur. A chill enveloped her shoulders as Prudence—still entranced by the portrait—absently fiddled with the amethyst ring upon her finger. Dizzy, Althea inhaled a shaky breath.

"When was it painted?" Prudence asked, stepping exceptionally close to the portrait.

"I was twenty," she said, her throat dry. "I'd inherited Northfield when I was fifteen…unfortunately, my father died while I was away."

Prudence gasped, turning away from the portrait.

"I almost left Hogwarts because of it."

"You almost left Hogwarts?" she asked, her smile one—Althea thought—of kinship.

"Yes, I almost did, but I couldn't leave Hogwarts," she explained, stepping forward. "I was happiest there."

Prudence nodded.

"I had friends," she continued and looked upon Sirius, who listened with interest, "and those I cared a great deal for." She returned her gaze to Prudence and smiled. "I'm glad I didn't."

Prudence became pensive. "And what did your mum think?"

"Oh," she answered and quietly cleared her throat. "I don't remember too much about her. I was a little girl when she died."

A small, delicate crease appeared between Prudence's eyebrows. "How sad," she murmured, wringing her hands in front of her.

"Indeed," she agreed and forced a smile. "I wasn't alone, though. I had Gran, Marie, my friends."

Prudence returned to the portraits. "It looks like the same dog."

Althea placed her hand upon her stomach to calm herself. "It's a relative."

Prudence raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was your boggart."

"What?"

"The boggart," she said, "at Hogwarts. A big black dog?"

"Oh…right," she said and bit her bottom lip. "Well, I love my dog," she continued, her eyes locked upon the big black dog that nobly rested at her feet in the portrait, "and I'd hate to lose him."

"I thought it would be Sirius Black."

Althea's head jerked back. "Why would you think something like that?"

Prudence shrugged. She had a strange look to her—was it a knowing look? "I thought he is what most people would be afraid of."

Althea gulped. "Oh, right."

Prudence sighed. "I would like to live in such a house."

"Really?"

Prudence nodded, surveying the room.

"But it's so large and drafty, and very old."

"Exactly," she replied, her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Althea let out a small laugh. "You read too many novels," she said and Prudence's cheeks flush pale pink. "No murders, or suicides, or secret pledging of vows occurred in this house. They were all too afraid of breaking the furniture."

_My home in Bermuda, on the other hand_…. It took two days to restore her father's study after the confrontation between Gran and Sirius. Sirius, of course, did most of the heavy charm work and her father's study returned to its previous intact state—except for a few items. _I'll never replace those charred books_.

"Prudence!" Afina called from the entrance hall. "Prudence!"

Prudence let out a gasp of excitement.

"Go on!" Althea encouraged and winked.

Althea folded her arms as she observed Prudence quickly walk toward the doorway. _Why would she mention Sirius_, she wondered, massaging her arms. _Could she have seen my boggart_? She shook her head. _No, no, it's not possible. That worrisome Mrs. Rourke put that in her head…she's one of those mums_. Althea imagined that, over the years, Mrs. Rourke invoked Sirius's name to maintain control over her children's behavior. It was quite effective when she heard mothers use it in Honeydukes. So effective, she would place her unpaid items on the closest shelf and leave the store.

Afina, smiling, met Prudence at the doorway. "I believe this is yours," she said, holding up a small black cat with a large pink bow.

"Violet!" Prudence said and happily took the cat into her arms. "How did you—"

"Are the Parkers here?" Althea asked—her heart began to race.

Afina shook her head. "No, I took her from Reginald," she said, scratching the top of Violet's head. "They brought this lovely cat and Prudence's trunk for her stay," she added and smiled, "for the week."

"Stay?" Prudence repeated as Violet nuzzled her cheek. "Here?"

"Yes, _stay_," Afina said, leaning close to Prudence and Prudence grinned. "Come on, let's unpack your trunk."

Prudence looked to Althea.

"Go on," she said, smiling. "I'll see you at lunch."

Afina grabbed Prudence and eagerly pulled her out into the entrance hall. As the giggling faded, Althea began to shake with happiness—her Prudence would stay. _One week_, she thought, letting out a small laugh. Her mind swam at a dizzying pace: broom rides at dusk by the lake, walks into the village, excursions to the surrounding park, and lunchtime picnics. She could feel Sirius behind her; he had transformed.

"You didn't, in the middle of the night," she began, staring at the empty doorway, "leave Prudence's bedside to pay the Parkers a visit? Perform a Memory Charm?"

"God no," he said, slipping his arms around her waist. "You know my thoughts on Muggles and Memory Charms." He kissed her bare shoulder. "Odd, though, isn't it?"

"Very," she said, uneasy at the Parkers odd behavior that summer. "I don't understand. I receive a letter with photographs and Mrs. Parker's assurances that one day Prudence would know, and then, Prudence isn't to return to Hogwarts. She attends the World Cup, and now, she has her trunk for a visit—"

"Maybe that old woman paid them a visit," he said as she placed her arms over his. "Is she any good at Memory Charms?"

"I wouldn't know," she murmured. "I reckon they'll want to have a meeting at the weekend about her."

Sirius nodded—his rough chin scratching against her skin.

Althea sighed and closed her eyes. "Do you think Stephen could make it for the evening?" she asked. "I'm sure he could find some way to delight her in his human form."

Sirius chuckled softly. "I believe he'll be free for the evening," he whispered—she enjoyed the feel of his warm breath against her cheek. "I was your boggart?"

Althea frowned faintly. "No," she lied.

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"What does the _Prophet _say, Gran?" Afina asked, peering over Gran's bent arm.

Gran slightly lowered the newspaper—the corner of her mouth downturned. "The incident is still being investigated," she said and shook her head. "This Ministry inquiry will be a farce."

"Indeed," Althea muttered, her head rested against the back of the chair. "Beautiful morning, isn't it?" she said and sighed longingly at the late morning sky through the glass roof. "A perfect day to visit the stables." She looked sideways and smiled at Prudence's eager grin.

"When have you taken an interest in my horses?"

"I thought Prudence would like to see them," she said, stretching her legs out before her. Her foot connected with Sirius's hairy side and he yelped. "Sorry," she said and twirled her wand between her fingers. "Right, we'll spend the afternoon at the stables…maybe lunch by the lake?"

"Ensure that she sees the Granian foal—"

"Of course," she replied as Prudence bit her bottom lip in happy anticipation, "it'll be the first thing we do."

The three women and Prudence sat in the center of the conservatory, surrounded by exotic orchids, flowering trees, and tropical plants. Althea raised her wand, pointed it at the orange tree, and narrowed her eyes. Two oranges twisted themselves from the tree and bobbed along toward Althea.

"No one will care if you do a bit of underage magic," Althea whispered, handing Prudence an orange. "Here, enjoy."

"Thank you, but wouldn't they know?"

Althea shrugged. "This is a magic household. The Ministry only knows magic occurs, not who performs the magic," she said, digging her nail into the rind. She smiled at the delicious smell of the perfectly ripe orange. "You've got your wand, haven't you?

Prudence nodded.

Althea sighed and tossed a bit of peel in the pot next to her chair. _'A grave breach of security'_, she thought as she read a few lines from the front page of the _Prophet_. _They'll just blame it on Sirius and be done with it_. She forcefully ripped a large chunk of rind from the orange—the juice squirting onto the back of fingers.

"Do they have any idea who cast the Dark Mark?" Afina asked.

Althea looked up from peeling her orange. "I think we all know who they're itching to blame," she said and removed the last of the rind.

"Sirius Black?" Prudence said.

Althea's stomach lurched forward. Such the careless remark! _Mind yourself_, she thought and swallowed. She would have to be guarded in her speech. Prudence, curious, was the sort of child that would pick up on such a remark. Althea was not used to such caution. Gran lowered the _Prophet_once more. Her face pale, she glared at Althea. The apprehension in Althea's stomach transformed to resolve.

Althea nodded in defiance. "It would be easy to think so, wouldn't it?" she said, holding the slice of orange to her lips—the potent citrus fragrance filling her nostrils. "Oh, but I really think he would be somewhere else, wouldn't you?" she continued and bit into the slice. "Somewhere warm, perhaps?"

"But—"

"Azkaban is a cold, dreary, and dreadful place, and I think the _last_ place he would want to be is a chilly moor," she interrupted, and pointed at the _Daily Prophet_ Gran held. "I read that story in the _Daily Prophet_, too," she said, her hand dropped to her side to offer Sirius a bit of orange. She smiled faintly. "They haven't a clue where he is."

Prudence's face bore a look of concern.

"But I know with great certainty that Black did not cast the Dark Mark," Althea said and ate another slice of orange.

"How?" Prudence asked.

_How, Althea, how do you know he didn't cast it_? She faintly shivered at the thought of Azkaban. It were those reminders that gave her the greatest unease. _What would you think of me, then_, she thought as Prudence awaited her explanation.

Althea chewed her bottom lip before she answered, "They take the wand away before one is sent to Azkaban…break it." She once more remembered her body chained, the searing humiliation as her wand—without much difficulty—was snapped in two…she blinked. "No wandmaker—"

"He could've stolen it," Prudence countered.

"It wouldn't work properly," Althea explained, and narrowed her eyes at Gran's smirk. "Wands are tricky and rarely tolerate deception."

"But it's Black, Althea Rosemary—"

"Yeah," Prudence agreed, shifting her body toward Althea.

"D'you really believe Sirius would stroll down Diagon Alley and call on Ollivander?" Althea countered and shook her head with quiet laughter. "Utter foolishness."

"He has done far more foolish things," Gran replied—inferring to that day's _Daily Mirror_.

Althea woke to Gran—stern—at the foot of her bed, and the _Daily Mirror_—a small photograph in the far right corner that depicted last night's events of Althea and the disguised Sirius—tossed upon her face. Gran did not seem to share Althea's relief that she was under the fold. Still, she was offended at the assertion that at thirty-four she was too old to have fun.

"As you always—"

Afina loudly cleared her throat.

Althea inhaled deeply to collect herself. She subtly nodded her thanks to Afina.

Prudence had a peculiar look upon her face. "Do you think he'll return to Hogwarts…to find what he was looking for?"

Althea shook her head. "The dementors almost caught him last time," she said, and forcefully swallowed an orange slice. "He wouldn't risk it. Let's not—"

Prudence's expression turned pensive. "Why would he escape after so long?" she asked and leaned closer to Althea. "Why not escape immediately?"

Althea crossed her legs and shrugged, praying her unease did not surface. _What are you getting at, Prudence_, she wondered, holding her fingers before her—here eyes losing their focus. Prudence seemed thoughtfully eager for her response.

"The planning might've taken this long to escape," she said and gently licked her finger. "Azkaban is a highly secure fortress, guarded by the dementors…. The only way to escape the island is death…and even then, if only someone cared enough to claim you."

"Would anyone claim him?"

Althea inhaled a ragged breath. "I don't know."

"Only a fool would claim him," Gran replied, not looking up from the newspaper.

"Only a _great _fool," Althea muttered and lifted an orange slice to her lips.

Prudence turned her face toward Gran. "Do you believe he cast it?"

Gran looked over the _Prophet_. "I wouldn't waste another thought upon that worthless and foul boy," she said and turned the page.

Sirius growled.

"Nothing good ever came from that family—"

"Hypocrite," Althea said through clenched teeth.

Afina gasped.

Gran lowered the _Prophet_—her eyebrow arched. "Althea Rosemary?" she asked—her voice icily calm.

Althea inhaled deeply to steady herself. "The same argument could be said for the Rynne family, Gran. Nothing good ever came from such a blood traitorous clan."

"That is barely hypocrisy—"

Althea stood and said, "You know what I mean." She tossed the remainder of her orange in front of Sirius. "I fancy a walk. Anyone?"

Prudence quickly stood. "I would," she said, smiling.

"Excellent," Althea replied, forcing a smile. "Why wait to visit the stables?"

* * *

Althea briefly closed her eyes, reveling in the warm sun upon her face and the sound of her footsteps in the thick tall grass. She opened her eyes to see Prudence at the edge of the stream, collecting white and purple wildflowers. She sighed happily and looked to Sirius at her side.

"Go on, then," she whispered, nodding toward Prudence.

Sirius bolted forward and Althea playfully pretended to hit his backside with her walking stick. She felt an uncomfortable chill as Sirius barked his arrival to Prudence. Her eyes drifted from the pair, to the wildflowers and the brush, to the willows that skirted the banks of the stream, and to the gentle sloping hills of the meadow. _You can't go to live with her_, she thought, careful of her movement upon the uneven ground._It would look strange for me to give her a dog. There will come a time when you can't bare it and you will want her to see you as you are_.

"I struggle with it every day," she murmured and swung her walking stick against the grass.

She heard squawking and the flapping of wings to her left, and she quickly turned her head toward the stream.

"Is that really necessary?" she sighed and fought the urge to roll her eyes as Sirius chased a duck to the edge of the stream. "Snuffles, no!" she commanded and shook her head as Sirius dove into the stream.

Prudence yelped at the great splash, lifting her hands to her face. The large wake disturbed the stream edge, the waves lapping against the brush. Sirius happily panted and paddled about the stream.

"You're all right?" she asked as she approached Prudence.

Prudence nodded. "He is a strange dog," she said and sniffed her bouquet of wildflowers.

Sirius leapt onto the bank and vigorously shook his body.

Althea nodded. "He is a bit touched in the head, isn't he?" she said, loud enough for Sirius to hear.

Sirius trotted ahead of the pair—his drooping, wet tail wagged like a metronome. Althea pointed her wand at his backside and placed a well-aimed Drying Charm. _I was hoping it to stand on end_, she thought and hoped that Sirius would not decide to roll in the dirt and the grass. The trio continued their walk along the stream and into the clearing at the edge of the lake. Althea inhaled a deep, satisfying breath. This view of the landscape—the trees and hills in the distance reflected off the shining blue-green water—was a favorite of her property. It was the lake and the surrounding landscape where Althea went to hide when the oppressive nature of her grandmother became too much for a teenage girl to shoulder. Many a summer evening, she spent skimming along the lake upon her broom. _I'll let you ride a broom tonight_. Pride swelled inside her chest, as she would be able to share this simple act with her daughter.

"To what House were you sorted?" Prudence asked, pulling a wilted purple flower from her bouquet.

"Gryffindor, like you," she answered, smiling at Prudence.

Prudence narrowed her eyes slightly and asked, "What was it like when you attended Hogwarts?"

"What was it like?" she repeated and screwed her eyes up in thought. "The same, really. Well, we had Slughorn instead of Snape—which wasn't much of an improvement, if you ask me—smarmy thing, he was…Binns was there—boring as ever…Flitwick, McGonagall. Dumbledore was Headmaster." Althea noticed Sirius had slowed. "That odious Filch," she added and smirked. "Still accuses me of throwing Dungbombs."

Prudence wrinkled her nose and made a sound of disgust.

Althea mimicked Prudence's expression. "They're disgusting, aren't they?"

Prudence nodded.

"You're trying to determine my age," she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Prudence turned slightly pink.

"I'm thirty-four," she answered, bending closer to Prudence.

Prudence frowned. "Really?"

Althea laughed. "Do I look older?"

Prudence vigorously shook her head. "No, younger."

Althea smiled as she looked ahead. "Thank you."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Prudence nervously picking at the bouquet, her expression one of someone struggling to choose the correct words. _Do you want to tell me that you won't return to Hogwarts_, she thought, allowing her walking stick to drag along the brush.

Prudence inhaled a quiet, sharp breath and nodded. "You attended Hogwarts in the seventies, then?"

Althea nodded slowly.

"With Professor Lupin?" she asked, her eyes unwavering from the bouquet.

Althea squinted. "_Yes_."

Prudence took a deep breath and asked, "Did you know him…at Hogwarts?"

"Who? Professor Lupin? He was a classmate of mine—"

"No," she said and whispered, "Sirius Black."

Althea's stomach turned. "Oh," she muttered and uneasily bit her bottom lip. "Why do you ask?"

Prudence shrugged slightly. "I wanted to know if he was like what they say," she said and plucked a browned flower from the bouquet. "I had a week of detention with Snape—"

"I reckon that was lovely," she said, wrinkling her nose and attempting to smother the feeling of dread. "The smell of pickled Erkling lasts for days."

"I had to clean the trophy room," she said, bending and twisting the stems of her bouquet. "Black had a trophy for Services to the School," she continued and swallowed, "he was in Gryffindor."

Althea gulped. _What is Snape up to_, she wondered, holding her walking stick tighter. Althea knew Snape began to suspect—either born out of paranoid obsession or true sleuthing—and he would be cruel enough, vindictive enough to upset an innocent and ignorant little girl. _He's systematically targeted children of those that bullied him—and my God—a child of Sirius Black! He'd love nothing more than to ruin her…ruin me_.

Althea clasped her trembling hands behind her back. "You found mine as well."

Prudence's face still held slight surprise. "Yeah."

Althea closed her eyes and nodded. "What would you like to know?"

Prudence hesitated before she said, "I want to know what you believe."

Althea felt the blood leave her face. "About Sirius?" she asked and opened her eyes.

Prudence nodded. I don't understand—"

Althea placed her hand upon Prudence's shoulder. "I reckon it's best we sit."

Althea held up her wand and a large purple cloth sprung forth. The blanket unrolled in midair and lazily glided to its final resting spot upon the bank of the lakeshore. Despite the subject matter to be discussed, she let a weak smile escape at Prudence's appreciation at magic not yet learned. Prudence—her expression eager, but apprehensive—sat upon the blanket cross-legged in front of Althea. Althea frowned as she smoothed the skirt of her lilac dress. What exactly would she tell Prudence? Daily, she fantasized about such a moment where she could tell Prudence about her parents; however, as Prudence sat before her, the words she had rehearsed and the stories she planned to tell escaped her. _What is your fascination with him_, she wondered as Sirius joined them on the blanket. _Is it because of what happened last school year? It has to be. You are a twelve-year-old girl with a penchant for the dramatic…how could you not be interested_? A child ignorant of magic, thrust into Hogwarts—in to an exceptionally different world—and exposed to its madness and insecurity before maturity would—no doubt—have such an effect.

"It was scary, wasn't it?" she said, gently scratching Sirius behind the ears. "Slashing the Fat Lady's portrait and entering Gryffindor Tower."

"Very," Prudence said. "Genevieve was so scared—she slept in my bed. Mrs. Rourke almost didn't let her return after Christmas!"

"What did your parents think?"

Prudence shrugged. "I didn't tell them…and boys can't enter the girls' dorms."

_Unless you're Sirius Black_, she thought and pulled a burr from Sirius' shiny black coat.

"I was scared…confused, too." Althea directed her attention from Sirius to Prudence as she spoke, "I never understood how a man, who risked his life for his fellow classmates against such pure evil, could've been seduced by it."

Prudence gasped. "What did he do?"

Althea was cautious—how much should she tell? What should she tell? _Just the basics, then_.

"What did he _do_?"

Althea paused before she spoke—she must regard her words carefully. "It seems like ages ago," she said as she held Prudence's rapt attention. "We were so unbelievably young, too," she continued and shook her head. "So foolish…Death Eaters, Voldemort's—"

"You say his name, too!"

"His full name is _Lord_ Voldemort," she said and smirked. "For someone who wanted to off all Muggleborns and Muggles, he very much loved his invented _Muggle _title."

Prudence was open mouthed.

Althea leaned forward. "As the daughter of an earl, I take great offense to such an imposter," she said and winked. "Anyway, his supporters entered Hogwarts—"

"Like Black!"

"Oh, I don't know about that," she said nervously. "There was to be a Hogsmeade visit and the protections—"

"Never mind," she began and waved her hand dismissively, "what did _he _do?"

"He fought the Death Eaters, of course," she said and scratched the top of Sirius's head. "We both did."

"You _both _fought Death Eaters?" she asked, her eyes wide.

Althea nodded.

Prudence blinked. "How old were you?"

Althea chewed her lip. "Sixteen."

Prudence slapped the blanket. "Sixteen? _Sixteen_?"

She nodded. "He fought so that others could get away," she said, tracing figure eight's into the blanket. "He was brave…very brave," she murmured, almost looking through the blanket, "or very stupid. It was such a stupid thing to do. We should've alerted our teachers straight away—"

"How many did he fight?"

Prudence's question jolted her from her stupor. "Oh, I don't remember exactly—"

"Oh, come on—"

Althea shrugged. "Three, I think."

"Whoa!"

Sirius panted cheerfully.

"But not at the same time," she added quickly, feeling her cheeks pink.

Prudence uncrossed her legs. "How many did you fight?"

Althea frowned. "Two, if I remember."

"The same?"

Althea shook her head. "No, they were different."

Prudence gasped and shook her fist in triumph. "I knew, I _just knew _that you were more than a Muggle Studies professor," she said, beaming. She sat back and sighed appreciatively. "I'd take a rest, too, after such an extraordinary life battling Death Eaters!"

Althea smiled weakly. "Indeed."

"Amazing," she breathed, bringing her knees to her chest. "Saving Hogwarts—"

"_Unfortunately_, I was badly hurt in that battle," she said over Prudence's gleeful remarks. "I spent a week in the infirmary—I could've died. It was such a stupid thing to do at that age—it was by sheer luck I survived—"

Prudence gasped. "Did someone save you?"

Althea nodded. "I was thrown into the air to prevent the Killing Curse—"

Prudence slapped her hand over her mouth.

Althea glanced at Sirius. "And I tumbled down a staircase."

"Who threw you?"

"Oh, I don't—"

"Who did it?"

"I was unconscious. I spent a week—"

Prudence's eyes twinkled excitedly. "It was Sirius Black, wasn't it?"

"Why would you think that?" she replied, fighting a smile. "It makes for an intriguing story, but he was in the infirmary as well."

Prudence frowned.

"Sorry to ruin the dramatic tale, but I don't know who saved me."

Sirius whined loudly.

Prudence sighed as she looked with admiration upon Althea. "You're so easy to talk to," she said and scratched the top of Sirius's head. "You'll tell me things…unlike Professor Lupin."

"Professor Lupin?"

"I asked him during boggart lessons," she said with a sheepish look. "He had a trophy, too."

"Ah," she said, raising an eyebrow, "and what did he tell you?"

Prudence shrugged. "That he knew him at Hogwarts, or at least he thought he knew him," she said in a rather spot on impersonation of Remus. She stroked a curl behind her ear. "I realized I probably shouldn't ask him more." She looked up at Althea—a crease between her eyebrows. "I think they were friends."

"And how could you gather that information from just that sentence?"

Prudence's lips quivered into a faint smile. "Professor Lupin dropped his tea when I mentioned his name."

_As he would_, she thought, chuckling softly. _He could've at least prepared me_. Althea rested her hands behind her as she studied her daughter. Prudence trusted Althea. Despite such a tenuous, fledgling relationship, Prudence—with her minute knowledge—questioned the Ministry's line. Prudence's curiosity for the dramatic and her healthy imagination would help Althea convince Prudence of Sirius's tragic innocence.

"You are, by far, an extraordinarily clever girl," she said and Prudence grinned. "You've deduced that if Black and Lupin were friends, and that I'm friends with Lupin, _clearly _I must've been friends with that dastardly rogue, Sirius Black."

"Were you?"

Althea licked her lips. "Friends, you mean?"

Prudence looked at Althea with peaked interest.

Althea looked to the purple blanket and carefully chose her words as she spoke, "At one time, we could've been considered friends."

Prudence let out a guffaw.

Althea raised her eyebrow.

"I had to rewrite detention cards."

"How dreadful."

"_Your _detention cards."

Sirius quickly lifted his head. _Who would have a student rewrite detention cards_, she thought and slowly clenched her jaw. _Snape. Was he so desperate to ruin me—so pathetic—that he had Prudence rewrite every incident with Sirius_?

Althea swallowed. "It's all right," she said and weakly smiled. "You learned a few things, didn't you?"

Prudence giggled lowly.

"Please, don't judge me on a few old detention cards."

Prudence vigorously shook her head. "I wouldn't, and I haven't told anyone," she said solemnly. "I reckon it's not something you'd want many people to know."

"Indeed," she sighed. "What will you infer now?"

Prudence wondered aloud, "Could he have done all those things they say?"

"It was a very different time," she said and frowned thoughtfully.

_She knows we were together…at least at Hogwarts_, she thought, pulling her knees to her chest. _Snape made sure of that…probably relished handing her the stack of the times we were caught snogging in the Restricted Section of the library_. A warm early afternoon breeze swept a few black curls into her face. _Prudence should know this, Binns will never teach her. She must know where she came from even if she never knows the entire truth_.

"You'll learn about this eventually, but imagine total chaos," she said, sweeping the curls from her face.

Prudence nodded solemnly.

"Every day, I didn't know if I'd live to see the next. I went to work, hoping my loved ones would be alive when I'd return," she continued, resting her chin upon her crossed arms. "He had armies of werewolves and giants—not all werewolves are as kind as Professor Lupin. He even used the dementors."

"God."

Althea nodded. "Inferi as well—"

"Inferi?"

"The dead—he cursed them to do his bidding."

Prudence looked horrified.

"Are you sure?"

"I want to know," she said as she wrapped her arms around Sirius.

"Right," she sighed as Sirius nuzzled Prudence's cheek. "He tortured or murdered anyone that did not follow him—had his followers do it, mostly. They murdered children, entire families…even tortured pregnant women," she continued and took a deep breath. "I was captured and tortured, too—"

Prudence covered her mouth.

"He used fear and coercion. There are three Unforgiveable Curses—one that causes horrific pain, another that kills, and the last that controls the minds of others."

"Control a person's mind?"

Althea nodded. "Those that would not follow him, he would curse them and control them, make them do horrible things. You had no idea if your neighbor was under the curse. Imagine not knowing if your best friend or your boyfriend were under it. In all that confusion, something like that—sending an innocent person to Azkaban—could happen," she said, and stared into Prudence's grey eyes as she added, "it _did_happen."

Prudence gasped.

"The Ministry was in chaos—some of its own people were controlled by Voldemort. The people, out of fear, chose officials that would do anything to keep order. For a while, the Ministry thought that any capture was a good capture and herded the lot of them off to Azkaban without question. Sure, there might've been inquiries after, but that didn't matter," she explained, lifting her head. "The Ministry had to look like it was doing something."

"Couldn't someone help the innocent person?" she asked, scratching Sirius's back.

Althea shook her head. "If they tried, they were sent to Azkaban themselves."

"To shut them up."

Althea nodded. "To keep order at all costs."

"How horribly tragic."

Althea suppressed a triumphant smile. "Indeed."

"But _thirteen people_," she whispered, a small crease formed between her delicate eyebrows.

Althea inhaled a shaky breath.

"Could a person change so much?" she asked, resting her head atop Sirius's head. "Fighting Death Eaters…and then, he's one of them?"

Althea did not answer. _You're a bloody coward_, she thought, avoiding Sirius's gaze.

Prudence frowned. "Your friend, Stephen…does he remember him?"

"Yes, of course."

"Were they friends?"

"You can ask him about it when he visits this evening."

Althea looked to Sirius, whose pale eyes answered in understanding.

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Didn't break one priceless Northfield heirloom," Sirius whispered, tapping Althea's shoulder for emphasis.

"_Stephen_," she whispered through gritted teeth.

"What?" he laughed quietly, his index finger stroking her shoulder. "She was brilliant."

"Your _arm_," she whispered and nodded to his arm around her shoulders.

Sirius looked to his arm and chuckled. "She doesn't mind," he said and nodded toward Prudence.

Prudence sat with Afina—the two sitting rather close—in conversation. Althea smiled at Afina's animated gestures. _She's so good to Prudence_, she thought, feeling Sirius gently tug at her curls. _My girls, together_. Rested and full, Althea allowed herself to slip closer to Sirius upon the sitting room sofa.

"Gran would've been livid," she said, her eyes half open. "You're lucky Prudence is an exceptional witch."

Sirius leaned close and Althea smiled at the warm, spicy smell of his soap. "Well," he began barely audible, "she does take after her father."

Althea giggled lowly. "Likely."

Afina pulled Prudence near and held her hands up to Prudence's ear. Prudence's expression changed from eagerness to shock. She let out a bark-like laugh and quickly covered her mouth as Afina shushed her. Althea raised an eyebrow.

"I'd forgotten how much girls giggle," he said—Afina furtively looked at the couple, whispering to Prudence. "And gossip."

"You enjoyed those rumors," Althea said, patting his thigh. "Encouraged a few of them as well, if I remember."

Sirius pursed his lips, squinting. "I might've," he sighed, and a smirk slowly played upon his lips, "but only the ones worth repeating."

"At my expense—"

"And mine," he reminded.

Prudence sighed. "I have such a silly name," she said, kicking her heel against the floor. "Afina. Now, I like that name."

Althea and Sirius perked up.

"You wouldn't if your dim classmates insisted upon calling you, Fifi," Afina replied. "Prudence is a fine name—"

Prudence let out a hoot of disgust. "It's boring," she explained, making a face. "It isn't very clever."

Sirius frowned. "I think it's a marvelous name," he said, slipping his arm from behind Althea. "I like it."

"Do you?" she replied, wrinkling her nose. "I'd always hear, 'Well, you're not very prudent, are you?' from my teachers."

Althea bit her lip to stifle her awkward giggle. "That's awful."

"Those teachers are awful," he muttered. "Idiots."

"_Stephen_," Althea warned quietly.

"Well, they are," he insisted. A jolt of concern registered upon his face. "The teachers at Hogwarts don't say those things, do they?"

Prudence shook her head.

"Good," he breathed.

"Still," she said as if what she were about to say tasted sour, "Prudence."

Sirius leaned forward. "It's lovely."

"If you think so," she murmured, folding her arms. "A prudent herb…very silly."

Sirius was nonplussed. "Haven't you ever heard the song?"

Prudence shook her head. "Song? What song?"

Sirius's eyes widened slightly. "You've—you've never heard of that song, 'Dear Prudence'?"

Prudence shook her head. "Is it old?"

Sirius made a noise of mild annoyance and Althea coughed to smother her giggling. Afina looked at the couple with great interest. Althea motioned with her eyes toward Sirius and then to Prudence. Afina smiled with recognition and nodded.

He quickly turned his head toward Althea. "I thought every Muggle owned that album—"

"Muggles do have different tastes, you know," she teased and winked. "It is over _twenty _years old—"

Sirius sneered at her.

"Come off it," she said and patted his knee. "No sulking—"

"Right," he sighed, and removed Althea's hand. "Well, my dear Prudence," he began and stood, "I shall mend this oversight." He walked toward the phonograph, continuing to speak, "Our Althea—"

"Upstairs," Althea offered and Sirius cast her a dark look. "Gran thinks it inappropriate—"

"How are The Beatles inappropriate?" he huffed and shook his head. "Never mind," he said and added in a hushed tone, "never had much sense in music anyway—Celestina Warbeck, I beg you—"

"All right there, _Stephen_?" Afina asked, her voice quivering from amusement.

"Never better," he said, and he smiled, his sole attention upon Prudence. "I'll be back shortly and you'll hear that fantastic song, I promise you."

Prudence did not seem as eager as Sirius, no doubt, imagined. She appeared ambivalent. She further receded into the plush pale blue sofa and folded her arms.

Once Sirius left the room, Prudence asked. "What if I don't like the song?"

Althea smiled sympathetically. "Just lie to him."

With a _pop_, Sirius appeared in the sitting room with the well-worn, off-white album underneath his arm. _Just lie to him_, she thought as Sirius strode across the room. _It'll break his heart if you think it stupid. It was the last decision we made together about you_.

"Right," he smiled, carefully sliding the twelve-inch vinyl record from the yellowed album sleeve. "Here we are," he said and placed the needle upon the record.

The four jolted at the loud screech of the needle slipping.

"Sorry," he murmured and quickly lifted the needle.

He carefully placed the needle upon the spinning vinyl and smiled as the first chords of the guitar, amid the faint _pops_ and _snaps _of worn vinyl, filled the sitting room. Prudence listened intently to the mesmerizing drone of the guitar and gasped as John Lennon's voice greeted her.

"It does say it!" she said, softly smiling.

_It's been ages since I've listened to this song_. At one time, Althea might have considered that song, with its gentle teasing and hopeful sound, one of her favorites, but after losing Prudence the song took on a new bittersweet meaning. _I'd remember that morning_, she thought and inhaled a shaky breath, _our last morning_. Althea crossed and uncrossed her legs as their most intimate secret played upon the phonograph. What meaning did the song hold now?

Sirius, his arms folded, stood next to the phonograph with his temple and shoulder rested against the pale blue damask wall. His expression soft, he quietly sang to himself. Althea furrowed her brow and blinked, exhaling an uneven breath, for he sang with such similar affection just as he had done so on that morning almost thirteen years ago. She placed her palm upon her abdomen; the physical memory of Prudence within her was fleeting. The vague sensation of the new and unknown within her—the kicks, hiccoughs, and stretches—she remembered, was singular.

"It's lovely," Prudence beamed.

Sirius briefly stopped his quiet singing to smile.

"Yes," Afina agreed, looking at Althea, "beautiful."

"And happy," Prudence added.

"And happy," Afina repeated.

Sirius smiled as he looked upon Althea. "It's our favorite song."

"Really?" Prudence breathed.

Althea nodded, not taking her gaze from Sirius. "We have a very happy memory attached to that song."

Once the song ended, Sirius removed the needle from the record and casually leaned with his back against the wall, his hands in his pockets. "Well?" he asked, grinning as he studied Prudence. "Think your name is awful?"

Prudence happily shook her head.

"Good," he said, pleased. "Parents probably named you after that song."

Althea stiffened at Sirius's careless remark…or was it so careless? She would speak with him that night, and—of course—he would have forgotten such a meaningful remark and would tease her silly paranoia. Then, Sirius would question that what if he had meant it, which would begin Sirius questioning Althea's misguided attempts to keep up appearances as the kindly schoolteacher and Althea's feverish insistence on maintaining Prudence's happiness. She hoped that distance and Silencing Charms would keep Prudence's curious ears ignorant.

Prudence wrinkled her nose and slowly shook her head. "I don't think so," she said and swallowed. "My mother thinks The Beatles are derivative and my dad thinks the band are overrated," she explained, wringing her hands in her lap.

Sirius stood up, open-mouthed. "Bollocks," he muttered. "I don't care what they think. What do _you _think?"

Prudence bit her bottom lip. "I thought it was fantastic."

Sirius smiled warmly. "And _that _is what matters," he said as he sat next to Althea. "That you like it."

"Just as I like Orpheus," Althea quipped, gently poking his shoulder.

"I wouldn't go that far," he teased.

"Orpheus?" Prudence asked, looking at the three. "What is Orpheus?"

"An immensely popular band when we attended Hogwarts," Althea answered and winked at Prudence. "_In the seventies_," she emphasized.

_Here we go_, she thought, for Prudence seemed to have understood.

Prudence coughed quietly. "You attended Hogwarts with Professor—I mean—Althea?"

Sirius nodded, scratching his clean-shaven chin. "Yeah, we were in the same House."

Prudence leaned forward. "Really? The same year?"

Sirius nodded. "Same year."

Prudence gently chewed her bottom lip, mentally rehearsing her next question. "So, you knew Professor Lupin, then?"

"He's one of my best friends."

Prudence raised her eyebrows. "Really?" she breathed, her eyes darted from Sirius to Althea.

Althea gave an encouraging nod.

There was some slight hesitation in her voice when she asked, "Did you know Sirius Black?"

Althea smirked, as it was difficult for Sirius to maintain his straight face. "Yes," he said, his lips quivering, "very well."

Althea rested her arm upon the back of the couch as she turned to him. "You remember me telling you of the break-ins?" Althea said and Sirius made a face as he nodded. "She was there."

Sirius paled. "God, I'm so sorry."

"It's all right," Prudence murmured.

"He slashed the poor Fat Lady's portrait," she said, poking his shoulder, "and snuck into Gryffindor Tower while our Prudence slept."

"I'll hex him."

"I'd like to see that," she murmured with a faint wry smile. "You read the _Prophet _this morning, didn't you?"

"The story about him casting the Dark Mark?" he asked, and Prudence nodded.

"So, do you think he cast the Dark Mark?" she asked, twisting and untwisting her hands in her lap.

Sirius vigorously shook his head. "Nah," he said, folding his arms. "I reckon he's on a beach somewhere," he continued, smiling to himself. "It's where I'd want to be if I escaped from Azkaban…giving the Aurors a nice holiday."

"Oh," Prudence whispered, a wrinkle appeared between her smooth brow. "I asked Althea and—"

Sirius unfolded his arms. "You'd like to know what I think?"

Prudence nodded.

"You are so lucky," he said softly, sitting forward. "When Althea and I grew up, it was a very scary time. Voldemort created confusion. You didn't know who was for him and who was truly against him because he could control their minds."

Prudence's eyes widened.

"It broke up friendships and tore relationships apart—tore families apart," he said, placing his hand upon Althea's knee. "Brother against brother…son against parents—that's how it used to be. Children were taken from their parents—"

Prudence covered her mouth as she looked at the couple.

"I don't understand how a bloke, who faced Voldemort and barely escaped with his life, would then turn his back on everything he was fighting for," he said, tenderly squeezing Althea's knee, "everything he loved."

"Did you fight him?"

"Who?"

Prudence sighed fretfully.

Sirius playfully narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't be a coward, Prudence, say his name."

"Did you ever fight," she began and swallowed, "Voldemort?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah."

Prudence's apprehension transformed into hero worship.

"When?" Althea asked and sat upon her bent left leg. "You never told me—"

"As if I would," he said, reclining into the sofa—his expression, satisfied. "Late January—"

"Of '81," she finished quietly, placing her hand over her abdomen.

_It all makes sense now_, she thought as Prudence gushed about Sirius's bravery. _I had never seen him so broken, so scared_. Sirius leapt from the sofa, and reenacted his daring escape to the delight of his enraptured daughter. _If he didn't make it, at least something—a part of him—would_. Prudence shrieked with delight as Sirius fell upon the sofa. Sirius, heaving great, contented breaths, tweaked Althea's nose. _Mummy's little parting gift_.

"Did you ever think Althea—"

"Never," he replied and smiled crookedly. "She's incapable of being under the Imperius Curse, anyway."

Prudence arched her eyebrow.

"Because she's so bloody stubborn."

Prudence asked Althea, "Did you ever think Stephen could be?"

Althea caught her breath.

"It's all right," he whispered, placing his hand upon her knee. "Tell her."

Althea furrowed her eyebrows. "Stephen despised everything Voldemort stood for. I should've seen it with the company he kept, the things he enjoyed, and the people he loved…. One can fake a great many things, but it's impossible to fake the real feelings of love," she said, staring at Sirius's thin hand upon her knee. "At one time, unfortunately, I did think he was capable—"

Prudence gasped.

"I forced myself to think—"

"Because others forced you to do so," he corrected.

"And I was incredibly stupid for listening to them," she said, taking his hand in hers. "It cost me a great friend."

Prudence laughed.

Sirius leaned close to Althea, and in a loud whisper, said, "She is the giggly sort, isn't she?"

Althea smiled impishly. "She only does that when she knows something."

Sirius faked shock. "What could she know?" he whispered with mock panic.

"She's a fantastically clever girl and no amount of secrecy escapes her," she remarked as Prudence grinned, satisfied at her own cleverness.

Sirius sighed. "It's useless, then…to hide my undying, unyielding devotion for one Hogwarts professor."

"Sinistra?"

Prudence giggled loudly.

"Enormously silly, isn't she?" Sirius whispered.

Althea slyly looked toward Prudence and then to Sirius. "McGonagall."

Sirius clutched his stomach and made retching noises. Prudence covered her mouth and continued to giggle—her eyes eager.

"What's wrong with McGonagall?" Althea asked, folding her arms in her best impersonation of the Deputy Headmistress.

Sirius mockingly shivered.

"I'm sure she was a great beauty in her day," Althea said as Sirius rolled his eyes.

Sirius sighed wistfully and clutched Althea's hand to his chest. "No, you had my heart when you gave me those Muggle sweets on the Hogwarts Express."

"Lies!" she said laughingly, slipping her hand from him.

Sirius shrugged. "I always preferred that story to the other."

"I wasn't the arrogant idiot."

"Oh, and how those words tore at my heart!" he lamented, flinging himself back against the sofa. "Much like the library bookshelf."

"Or the broom shed," she laughed.

"Oh, you were a lady, Morrigan," he said lowly as Prudence not to hear, "only the finest for you. The broom cupboard."

"Berk," she murmured and Sirius playfully narrowed his eyes at her.

"What?" he asked, tossing the hair from his face. "I had my standards, my good image, to maintain."

"Likely," Althea said, folding her arms.

"Enough," he said and surveyed the room with a sneer. "I'm bored."

"How is it possible?" Althea wondered aloud.

Sirius stood and walked toward the phonograph. He frowned as he looked upon the albums below. _They're all Gran's_, she thought as Sirius made a face at the Celestina Warbeck album.

"Don't you dare—"

"I wasn't about to," he said and stuck out his tongue. "My beloved mother owned that album as well."

"Gran will be very pleased," Althea remarked as Sirius shivered, "to have so much in common with her."

Sirius held up an album with a smartly dressed wizard holding a clarinet. "Who listens to this?" he remarked, wrinkling his nose at the back of the album. "'Dragon Hide Boot Boogie,' 'Jarvey Jive,' 'Sorcerer's Serenade—'"

Prudence giggled at the song titles.

"My father, maybe?" she offered as Sirius placed the record upon the phonograph. "George?"

"Oh, let's hope it's George," he said, holding out his hands for Althea.

Althea shook her head. "Be reasonable."

"We have to entertain our guest," he said and pointed his wand at the phonograph. The sound of a large brass section grew louder.

Prudence sat upon the edge of the sofa, grinning.

"Our Prudence already finds us very entertaining."

Sirius threw his head back and sighed loudly.

"Do it, Auntie!" Afina encouraged. "I haven't seen you dance in ages."

"Ages?" he repeated and beckoned for her to join him. "That won't do, my love," he said and smiled crookedly. "Don't be a coward, Morrigan," he teased and winked, "dance with me."

"Why do you say that?" she asked, standing.

"It works, doesn't it?" he remarked and pulled her into an embrace. "Let's show them what McGonagall taught us."

Althea laughed. "You weren't paying attention!" she said and squealed as Sirius, tightly holding onto her hands, spun her.

Althea continued to squeal and to laugh as Sirius spun and swung her around the sitting room to the catchy drumbeat of 'Dragon Hide Boot Boogie.' Ever so often, he would pass the large mirror over the mantel and she would catch sight of a flash of blond hair—Sirius's charmed form. _It doesn't matter_, she thought, fighting those urges of melancholy, _she'll never see us as we truly are_.

"Right," she said, holding the stitch in her side. "I've had enough."

Sirius turned toward Prudence and Afina.

"Prudence?"

Prudence laughingly shook her head. "I don't know how."

Sirius smiled. "I'll teach you," he said, beckoning her.

"I'll step on your feet—"

"I'll charm my shoes," he said, motioning for her stand. "Come on, Morrigan's already numbed them for you."

Afina nudged Prudence.

Prudence reluctantly stood and took his hand.

Althea massaged her temple as the pair danced and did her best not to burst into a fit of laughter. The dance lesson had devolved to Sirius running Prudence around the spacious room—weaving about tables, sofas, and chairs—spinning around as fast as they could. _He's keen to break that vase_, she thought, and gasped when Prudence's leg brushed the vase. Althea cast a charm to halt the wobbling. _We should have more evenings such as this_, she thought as Sirius looked down upon Prudence—the pair grinning. _This is as it should be_.

"Don't worry about breaking anything!" he shouted over the music. "We'll mend it before Althea's gran will ever know!"

Suddenly, the music stopped. Prudence and Sirius, laughing, spun to a stop. Prudence gasped and Althea looked toward the door.

Sirius whispered loudly to Prudence and for all to hear, "She always has to ruin fun."

Gran, imposing in fabrics of rich purple silk, stood within the doorway. She did not bother to disguise her contempt for Sirius. Sirius did not exhibit similar contempt. Instead, he rested his hand upon Prudence's shoulder and smiled at the young girl.

"We'll dance again, I promise you," he said, and then faced Gran—his look, insolent.

Gran's lips thinned. "Althea Rosemary, I must speak with you."

Althea briefly closed her eyes. "Of course," she sighed, and forced a smile at the concerned Prudence. "I'll return shortly."

A somber, uncomfortable feeling enveloped the room. _Why must you do this, old woman_, Althea thought, standing.

Sirius, aware of the change, clapped his hands together and said, "In the meantime, what stories should I tell of our lovely Althea?"

Afina taking the cue, sat forward. "Why not of how you met?"

"Ah," she heard Sirius begin—his voice began to fade as she followed Gran across the entrance hall, her heels echoing against the marble.

_What must you say to me_, she wondered, entranced by the billowing fabric at Gran's feet. Her hands balled into fists at the new feeling of mortification. _That she orders me before my daughter_! Althea let out a silent growl. Sirius's presence at dinner infuriated and unnerved Gran, and Sirius—aware of this effect—sought to exploit it. He was charming and jovial—quick to see Afina and Prudence laugh—and spoke of family and friendship, unabashedly proclaiming fondness for his grandfather.

Once inside the drawing room, Gran aimed her wand at the two white doors, which slammed shut behind Althea.

Althea opened her mouth, but Gran spoke first, "I would like for him to leave."

"No," she said, folding her arms, "he is her father and has every right to be here."

Gran remained silent.

Althea laughed spitefully through her nose. "We're having fun. There is nothing wrong with having fun, is there?"

"Don't be a fool—"

"This is what we were supposed to have," she said, holding out her arms. "Evenings such as this."

"He will tear out her heart," she said, pointing in the direction of the sitting room. "You can't keep up this charade for long. When she discovers Sirius—"

Althea smiled. "She already knows about Sirius."

Gran's eyes widened.

"Snape," she said, "my _colleague_at Hogwarts, sought to educate her. He had her clean the trophy room…she knows about the trophy he received after battling Death Eaters."

"Althea Rosemary," she muttered, bringing her hand to her face.

"She knows that he saved me life—"

Gran paled. "You foolish girl," she muttered.

"Go and scold Snape," she said as Gran lowered her hand. "I don't deserve this lecture."

"You will make mess of things," Gran said, stepping closer to Althea. "She is a child—"

Althea felt her heart quicken in her chest. "Sirius Black is on a beach someplace warm and far from Northfield," she said with as much restraint as she could muster. "So, it would be best to refrain from degrading Sirius's character…if we do not want such questions to answer. She's a highly perceptive girl."

"Yes, isn't she?" she remarked, narrowing similar dark blue eyes. "Just like George."

"At least the Sorting Hat had the good sense to place in her in Gryffindor so certain questions won't be asked."

Gran was silent.

"Right," she sighed, and started for the doors.

"How long will Sirius keep up such a charade?"

Althea fought the urge to stop. "Now, I must return to spend an evening with my daughter and her father," she said, turning the cold crystal doorknobs.

"She is of his blood, and—if you remember—such formalities as to the purity of her blood were easily forgotten by his mother—"

"Her father only matters when it is convenient for you," she said, her hands heavy upon the faceted crystal. "You're more alike his mother than you realize," she sneered and opened wide the doors. "Good evening, Gran."

Althea returned to the sitting room where Prudence and Afina—silent—sat forward upon the sofa engrossed in the story Sirius was telling. She stood just inside the doorway and listened to Sirius's tale.

"And I thought I was dead…no one survived that sort of attack," he said and looked up. He smiled at Althea.

Althea smiled and folded her arms.

"My mates took me to Althea—I couldn't go to St. Mungo's it was too dangerous. I would've been attacked there. They thought I might've had a chance with Althea—she was a Healer…and if I were to die…"

Prudence gasped and covered her mouth.

Sirius smiled. "She was brilliant—poured all sorts of potions on the wound—"

"Do you still have the scar?" Afina asked.

Sirius laughingly answered, "If I did, I'm not going to show you it."

Althea walked forward and placed her hand upon his shoulder.

He placed his hand atop hers. "I didn't believe I'd live through the night."

"I didn't either," she said, and gently pressed his hand. "I must've used every potion I had and every spell I knew."

"She stayed at my side—"

"I was in tears—"

"You were brilliant," he murmured and kissed her hand.

Althea joined him on the sofa.

"When I awoke that morning, fully healed, I realized what an idiot I'd been. I couldn't marry her, but I knew I had to be with her."

Afina frowned. "What? What do you mean? What about—"

"The Wizard Engagement Declaration Act," Althea interrupted, mumbling quickly—feeling her face flush. "It was an awful law used during the war."

"It was to prevent witches and wizards from Muggle elopement. It was to protect the interests of pureblooded families…especially one such as mine," he explained and squeezed her hand. "We were threatened with Azkaban."

"Good Lord."

Prudence went pale.

"We could never marry in a Ministry sanctioned ceremony as my family would never give consent, and I didn't think I'd live to twenty-five with the war and all."

Althea frowned. "What about Andromeda?"

"What about her?"

"She married Ted."

"Regulus had just died, and it was thought I'd return to the family," he whispered to her. "This was just one method they'd use." Sirius sighed sadly. "It was the only time she'd ever admit that I was her son."

Afina shook her head sadly. "Gran never—why didn't you?"

Althea shrugged. "It's not a particularly pleasant memory."

Afina nodded. "God, they did everything to keep you apart," she whispered. She opened her mouth to speak once more, but paused, knitting her brow. "See, I thought—when did this occur, then?"

Sirius frowned thoughtfully. "He died in July, right?"

"Right…I wasn't yet twenty."

"You were so young," Afina said. "I wouldn't think of marrying Bacchus now—"

"There was a war," Althea said, "and everything was sped up."

"Right," Sirius nodded, "fourteen years ago."

Prudence—her eyes rolling into the back of her head—fell backwards onto the sofa. Althea leapt to her feet and rushed to Prudence's side.

"Right, help me get her to the floor," Althea said to Afina. "Sirius, love, I'll need some wet towels."

"Just cast—"

"Wet towels," she said as she gently placed the limp Prudence upon the ground.

With a _pop_, Sirius Apparated.

"What happened?"

"Probably too much excitement," Althea replied, stroking Prudence's cheek. "Voldemort, Death Eaters, and _how _did you get on the subject of our sham elopement?"

"We wanted to hear a story," she said, holding up Prudence's legs. "Blame Sirius."

Sirius returned and held two large, sopping wet towels before him.

Althea grimaced at the growing puddles of water upon the Georgian era rug. "Smaller towels."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You didn't specify size," he said. He bit the inside of his cheek as he charmed them smaller. "These will do."

Althea placed them on Prudence's forehead and on the back of her neck.

Sirius knelt next to Althea. "Will she be okay?"

Althea nodded. "Too much excitement—her imagination lives for that sort of thing," she said and took her wand from her pocket. "Thank you," she added and rested the tip of her wand against Prudence's temple.

Prudence slowly opened her eyes.

"Don't sit up, yet," Althea said and patted Prudence's forehead with the wet towel. "Are you all right?"

Prudence nodded. "Oh, how embarrassing."

"Don't you dare think such a thing," Althea cooed, pressing the lilac towel against Prudence's flushing cheek.

"Would you like anything?" Sirius asked. "Something to drink? Chocolate? A new broom?"

Prudence, silent, only stared at Sirius.

"Prudence, would you like something to drink?" Althea asked.

Prudence furrowed her eyebrows. "Sorry, I—sorry," she said and shook her head. "I would like something to drink."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Althea moodily stabbed at her eggs. _She should've received her letter_, she thought and glanced at Prudence who sat at her right. Prudence, her chin resting upon her hand, poked at her eggs with her fork. _She knows something is wrong_. The mother and daughter—their plates relatively untouched—sat in silence at the small, round mahogany table in the center of the breakfast room. To Althea, outside of her quarters, the breakfast room had certain cheerfulness about it—the late morning sunlight illuminated the pale yellow walls and highlighted watercolor scenes and intricate construction plans for the garden outside the large windows before them. However, no amount of sunlight could cheer its glum occupants. Althea sighed and pushed her plate forward.

"Right—" she began to say, but quickly frowned as she heard whistling.

His hands in the pockets of his grey trousers, Sirius, whistling the chant of the Montrose Magpies, entered the breakfast room. He stopped briefly to smile at the pair and Althea sank lower in her chair. The nape of her neck flushed at Sirius's warm, moist breath against her cheek. He chuckled softly.

"Morning, lovely," he whispered and kissed her cheek.

_At least he's dressed_, she thought, uncomfortable at his early presence and without an invitation. Althea was unsure of what appearance she was attempting to keep up, but she was very sure most students were not privy of their schoolteacher's lives; although, Althea seemed to be the only one in the room bothered by the perceived awkwardness.

He sat across from Althea, and he sighed happily as he looked upon the spread for breakfast. "I had a lovely walk from the cottage this morning," he said, scooping eggs onto his plate. "Perfect sky," he added and winked at Althea. "Wish I had my bike."

"You would," she murmured, her lips trembled into a small smile. "Didn't bother to Apparate?"

"Why, on such a gorgeous morning?" he wondered and stabbed a sausage. "I'm thinking about refurbishing the cottage," he added and shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth. He swallowed and continued, "It'll give me something to do while you're away."

"It needs loads of work," she said and took a sip of tea.

"Nothing I haven't done before," he replied and winked as he took a bite of sausage. "Terribly leaky roof," he muttered teasingly, "as if it were _charmed _that way."

Althea playfully kicked him from under the table.

He smiled as he looked upon Prudence. "And how is our dear Prudence this morning?"

Prudence dropped her fork—her complexion almost white.

"Are you feeling all right?" Sirius asked and cocked his head to the side. "Eggs not to your standard? Hogwarts spoils you, doesn't it?"

Prudence was quiet, staring at her nearly full plate. Her sullen expression was mixed with something Althea thought to be fretfulness. Prudence bit her bottom lip and refused to look up at the couple as Sirius gently teased her about her newfound silence.

He looked at the empty seat to Althea's left. "Ah," he said, nodding to himself, "Afina's not here."

Althea kicked him once more underneath the table.

Sirius shrugged. "Now," he began, "what is ahead of you today? The stables again? A broom ride by the lake? A swim? There's a lovely village near our cottage. I'm sure you'll find something interesting there."

Prudence remained silent and picked at the tablecloth.

"I know," he said and leaned forward. "Have you ever seen a Hippo—"

"No," Althea said quickly, "no."

Sirius's head jerked back. "Why not?" he laughed. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"It's not—"

"I'm not that hungry," Prudence muttered, pushing her plate forward. "Would it be all right if I ride a broom?"

Althea nodded. "Afina will show you where they are," she said and Prudence quickly stood, "and don't forget we have a party to attend this afternoon."

Sirius leaned forward. "What sort of party?" he asked with an eager smile.

"Not the sort you enjoy," Althea answered. "Lady A's garden fête."

Sirius shivered. "I've had enough of that lot," he said under his breath.

"Thank you," Prudence said, mustering a small smile. "May I fly by the lake?"

"Yes," the couple answered in unison—Althea felt a transitory unease, but Sirius seemed unaffected.

"Yes, yes, of course," Althea said, "but be careful."

"Thank you," she said, wringing her hands before her. "Nice to see you again," she said to Sirius.

Sirius smiled, his gaze followed Prudence toward the door. "Likewise," he said and took a bite of toast.

Once Prudence left the room, Althea spoke, "Don't tease her."

"What?" he said and frowned. "I wasn't—"

Althea lifted her wand and shut the door. "She's a twelve-year-old girl, Sirius," she said, resting her wand upon the table. "Lest you forget how moody I could be at that age."

"You'd just hex me," he said, and his lips formed a mischievous smile. "Remember when—"

"She's been like that all morning," she interrupted, nervously kicking her heel against the floor. "She should've received her letter by now," she said as Sirius finished the last of his toast. "She knows it, too."

Sirius swallowed his pumpkin juice. "They can't do this to her," he replied and rested his forearms against the table. "I won't let them."

Althea laughed a quiet spiteful laugh. "We don't have a say."

"Oh, I think we do," he said and folded his arms, "or at least I do."

Althea looked at him strangely. "What do you mean? I've tried this entire summer holiday to convince them and—what?"

Sirius sighed smugly and leaned his chair upon its hind legs. He reached into the hidden pocket of his grey suit jacket and produced an envelope. He tossed the envelop across the table and it landed before Althea—her eyes recognized the Hogwarts seal.

"Read it," he said, motioning at the envelope. "It arrived this morning."

Althea opened the envelope and removed a letter from Dumbledore addressed to Sirius. She skimmed the greetings and pleasantries and inquiries about his health and stopped at the paragraph about Prudence:

_It is distressing that Prudence witnessed the events surrounding the World Cup, but it is fortunate that she is in such caring and loving company at this time. I, too, share your concern in Prudence's return to Hogwarts. It is of the utmost importance that Prudence returns to Hogwarts not only for the sake of her magical ability, but for the health of your Althea as well. It is evident that the happiness of mother and daughter are intertwined and such a bond should never have been treated so cavalier…._

"Did he apologize?" she murmured and blinked as she looked at the letter.

"Continue," he encouraged, gently rocking his chair back and forth.  
Althea closely held up the letter and continued to read:

_The Parkers are in danger of compromising the agreement made, and as you have argued not their decision to make. Therefore, I have enclosed—_

Althea quickly shuffled to the second page and gasped. There, before her eyes, was the list for second-year.

She looked up from the list. "What did you do?"

"Do what I should've done thirteen years ago," he said, "act like her damn father."

Althea felt uneasy. "They won't agree to this," she said, reading the second-year list. "Hogwarts isn't mandatory and—"

"They don't have to."

"What?" she asked, allowing her hands to fall into her lap.

"_They don't have to_."

"Yes, they do—"

Sirius shook his head. "The 'Law to Promote the Welfare of Wizardry, 1556,'" he said, folding his arms. "An ancestor might've written it."

Althea raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Sirius smiled haughtily. "That under no circumstances are children of the noble purebloods to be raised by those of inferior blood."

Althea made a guttural noise of disgust.

Sirius looked up toward the ceiling. "I won't go as far as to thank my dear mother—"

"But Prudence isn't—"

"Children _of _the noble purebloods," he said, jabbing the table with his forefinger. "According to a law, that as of today has not been abolished, what the Parkers did was unlawful and they never had any claim to her."

Althea wrinkled her nose. "According to that law, neither did I."

"Althea—"

"Her birth certificate was magically binding—"

"The law is older than birth certificates," he said, allowing his chair to rest on all four legs. "My mother knew this—"

"Oh God," she breathed and quickly clasped her hand over her mouth. "You would use a law that your mother attempted to use against me?"

Sirius leaned forward. "It's not like that—"

"Oh, it very much is," she said, standing. "Don't do this."

"My love—"

"It's like your lot, isn't it?" she said, roughly grasping her wand from the table. Sirius eyed her warily until she slipped it into her dress pocket. "Whether it's chucking a purse of Galleons at me in the street, or using some bloody obscure law to keep my Muckblood hands off your fortune, or deciding what is best for Prudence because—again—I'm some Muckblood tart—God, you're _just like _them!"

"How dare you?"

"How dare you think I'd agree to this?" she said, leaning forward against the back of her chair. "You've always done this—always!" she said and lifted herself from the back of her chair—it creaking underneath her. "You always look for a bloody loophole."

Sirius paled. "You would compromise our daughter's happiness just so you can take an ideological high road?"

Althea blinked. "'Ideological high road'?"

"Don't fucking patronize me," he sneered. "She's my daughter and—"

Althea's eyes widened, and she grasped the chair before her. It did not matter that Prudence had a family, or a rich and happy life—ignorant of her birth. It did not matter that Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban—unaware of her survival—or that he was still considered a murderous fugitive. It did not matter to his mother that Prudence was born of a woman that his mother only referred to for years as, 'that Muckblood.' It was as Gran had predicted, and Althea growled at Gran's keen sense.

"Stop proving Gran right!" she shouted.

"What?" Sirius blinked.

"Get out."

Sirius stood. "I don't believe you," he said and shook his head. "I know you've thought of Memory Charms—how could you not?"

"Don't—"

Sirius slammed his hands upon the table—the crystal and silver clinked and rattled. "Why won't you fight for her?"

"I will not have you or some fucking Ministry law tell me what I should and shouldn't do!" she said, suppressing her tears. "I made that decision!" she continued, slapping her hand against her breast. "I, alone!"

"You're not alone now," he said through gritted teeth as he took long strides to meet her.

"And you think because you're back that it all changes?" she replied, narrowing her eyes. "No!"

"Listen for once—"

Althea rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. "She's happy. She has a mum and a dad, a brother, and—"

"She isn't happy!" he said, taking hold of her shoulders.

Althea caught her breath. _No, she isn't_, she thought as Sirius's fingers kneaded her fabric sleeves. _She's happiest at Hogwarts. She knows she's special and not some freakish little girl_.

"She isn't happy," he repeated, releasing her shoulders. "Her friends have all received their letters. She thinks she's been expelled."

"Expelled?"

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "How do you do it?" he asked, opening his eyes. "God, I want to grab her and tell her everything."

Althea looked to his crisp white shirt. "I have to remember that her happiness is the most important thing," she explained, fiddling with a button on his shirt. "She doesn't know, Sirius. She'll think I didn't want her—that I didn't want her because of you."

"Bollocks," he muttered.

"How could she not?" she asked and sniffed. "I've made a spectacular mess of things—don't, please—it was my decision…and now her happiness, her future is at stake, and I—"

"I promise you," he began, cupping her face in his hands, "Prudence will return to Hogwarts. She will be on the Hogwarts Express and you will see her at the Welcoming Feast."

"Sirius…" she said weakly.

"I've never met a girl so happy to be a witch," he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "We'll talk with them at the weekend."

Althea frowned slightly. "We'll?"

Sirius nodded. "You're not alone anymore, my love," he said and kissed her forehead.

* * *

**AN:** Mriel, thank you so much for your very kind comments!

Thank you so much for reading this story. Please feel free to comment and review.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Althea groaned quietly as she surveyed the lawn of Lady Applewood's estate from underneath the large brim of her white hat. To her left stood the impressive grey stone eighteenth century house with its many windows and tall columns. Large white tents loomed in the distance upon the rather boring and structured lawn. A string quartet could be heard playing from at least one of the tents over the din of laughter and chatter. She adjusted the large gardenia at the clasp of her wrap dress that fell elegantly about her slender frame. Althea inhaled a deep breath for courage and started forward with her young companion at her side.

"I'm sorry we have to go to this," she said as they neared the large white tent adjacent to the hedge garden. "I can assure you, our evening will be more pleasant."

Prudence's head quickly turned from side to side while she took in all that was around her. Large topiaries guided their path toward the tents decorated with blue and yellow ribbon and large arrangements of white flowers. It was tasteful and boring, and everything the lot Gran sought to align herself with was accustomed. _I'd love a motorbike roaring cross the sky about now_, she thought and sighed. Prudence gasped and tugged at Althea's arm.

"Is that?"

Althea looked to her right at what held Prudence's attention. "I believe so," she said and frowned slightly at the woman wearing such high heels upon the grass.

"And there?"

Althea noticed a brown-haired man in a black suit with sunglasses. "And there," she said and nodded.

Prudence's eyes were wide. "I didn't know—"

"I don't know them," she said, aware of a group of women about Althea's age just inside the tent. She shrugged. "I don't really talk to them, either. Sort of boring, if you ask me."

"Really?"

Althea nodded and bent slightly to whisper to Prudence, "Look at them, all looking around to see who notices them."

Prudence caught her breath as she realized the same observation. "They do!"

"Ah, but we won't worry ourselves with that lot," she said, and smiled for Sophie had spotted the two.

Sophie, in a more conservative frock than the night of her birthday, strode to greet Althea. "Your Gran and my Granny are already scheming," she whispered as she hugged Althea.

"Fantastic," she sneered, pulling away. "I'll be sure to avoid them."

"Likewise," Sophie said, and nodded toward Prudence. "And who is our guest?"

Althea placed her hand upon Prudence's back. "Sophie, I'd like you to meet Prudence," she said, smiling.

Sophie held out her hand. "You're just lovely," she said, taking in Prudence and smiling. She looked to Althea. "Stephen's?"

"What? Oh—oh no, no," she said and laughed nervously. "She's a student of mine."

"A—a student? At that—"

Althea nodded.

"Oh, how wonderful!" she said, clasping her hands together. "I know someone you'd just love to meet!" She turned her head and surveyed the crowd inside the tent. "I think Freddie is here," she continued and squinted. "You can never tell with him." She held up her hand and waved at a group of girls just inside the tent.

A tall girl—no more than fourteen—with straight brown hair stood at the edge of the group and pointed at her chest.

"Yes, you!" Sophie whispered and beckoned for her to join the three. "Who else?"

Prudence watched the girl—dressed in a very fine light blue dress—walk toward the three. She looked at her own pale pink dress, and she faintly frowned.

"You look lovely," Althea whispered. "That is Sophie's niece, Celia."

"Oh," Prudence breathed as the girl approached them.

"Celia," Althea said, gently nudging Prudence forward, "I'd like you to meet Prudence."

Celia smiled and nodded.

"Where's your brother?" Sophie asked, and winked at Althea. "We'd like her to meet him."

Celia shrugged. "I haven't seen him all afternoon," she said and wrinkled her nose. "He's probably terrorizing some poor frog by the pond."

Prudence quickly turned her apprehensive face toward Althea.

"It's all right," she said with an encouraging smile. "I believe you'll discover you have _a lot in common_," she added in a whisper. "Celia, would it be too much if I ask you take Prudence to meet him?"

The young girl grimaced. "Why'd you want to do that?"

"Celia!" Sophie laughed.

"What?" she asked, folding her arms. "He's—"

"Never mind," Althea replied and forced a small smile. "We'll search for him ourselves."

Sophie opened her mouth to apologize, but Althea waved her goodbye.

"It was very nice meeting you both," Prudence said, twisting herself toward the couple as Althea guided her away. "That girl is very rude," Prudence whispered.

"She doesn't want to be here, as well, I think," she said and tenderly squeezed Prudence's shoulders. "She'd rather spend the day with her friends than at her Granny's party."

"_Still_—"

"You're right," she said. "It is no excuse for rudeness. I'm sorry she treated you that way," she added, maneuvering Prudence through the couples milling about the topiaries. "I'll speak with her later."

Althea turned her head to see Sophie gravely shaking her head in Celia's reprimand. She thought she saw Celia roll her eyes. _You awful girl_, she thought as Prudence—a fine crease between her eyebrows—examined her dress. _My Prudence deserves better_.

"It could be jealousy, I suppose."

"Jealousy?"

Althea sighed. "Her brother is like us," she said as the two walked toward the garden maze. "No, he doesn't attend Hogwarts."

Prudence frowned. "I thought everyone—"

Althea glided her fingertips along the tall hedges. "Not every magical child attends Hogwarts," she explained, her fingertips grazing the tiny waxy leaves, "especially Muggle-borns—it can be quite a shock. His parents chose a private tutor."

"A private tutor? Does he take the same classes?"

Althea nodded. "I believe so."

The pair turned inside the maze, the dark green hedges rose above their heads and shaded the path before them. It was cool and still within the maze. Althea was the first to spot Freddie. He sat upon the grey stone bench in the sunniest section of the maze. He was a boy not much older than Prudence with his suit jacket at his side, his tie undone, and his sleeves rolled up. A thick lock of light brown hair obscured his closed left eye for his head rested quite peacefully against the hedge behind him. Althea briefly regretted their interruption of Freddie's sought after solitude. _How I understand_, she thought, as Freddie was not yet aware of their presence. _You don't quite fit in anymore_.

"Hello, Freddie," Althea said, as they created a shadow across his form.

Freddie opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to adjust to the sun. Upon recognizing Althea, he smiled, and quickly lifted himself from the hedge.

Althea placed her hand upon Prudence's back. "Freddie, I'd like you to meet Prudence," she said, as Freddie raised an eyebrow at Prudence. "She attends that school I told you about."

Freddie's dark brown eyes widened. "She does?" he asked and smiled with surprise. "You're a—"

Prudence nodded. "A witch."

Althea didn't have to nudge Prudence forward this time for Prudence immediately moved Freddie's jacket and sat upon the stone bench.

"Right," Althea laughed quietly as the two eagerly looked at her to go away. "I'll be with your Aunt, Freddie, if you need me."

Althea smiled as she walked away. She could hear Prudence chatting away about Hogwarts. _Don't overwhelm him_, she thought as Prudence's voice mingled with the chirping birds hidden within the hedges. Althea returned to the tent to be greeted by Gran's optimistic expression.

"She's twelve," Althea said as she attempted to step around her Gran.

Gran stepped in front of her. "She is with Freddie now?"

"Yes," she sighed, throwing her head back and gazing up at the blue and yellow ribbon covered ceiling. "He's suitable—he's all those things you've prayed in the chapel for me, but I rejected for a boy on a motorbike," she said and lifted her head. "Congratulations."

"Althea Rosemary—"

"Is she scolding you, again?" Sophie teased, placing her arm around Althea's waist.

"I'm afraid so," Althea said, smiling at Gran's slight frown.

"She's almost middle-aged," Sophie said and Althea winced. "I reckon she's set in her ways by now."

"Indeed," Gran said, "and you helped, no doubt."

"Come on," Sophie said, pulling Althea with her. "Let's leave Gran to sulk."

Sophie quickly escorted Althea from her grandmother to an empty table in the far corner of the tent. Althea felt protected by the ambient din of conversation at the surrounding tables.

"Does Freddie have an owl?" Althea asked.

"A what?"

"An owl," she replied, smoothing the skirt of her dress. "We use it to communicate—"

Sophie laughed. "What a ridiculous method of communication!" she said, her expression a mixture of amusement and condescension. "You can bloody well use a telephone!"

Althea stared at the large floral arrangement at the center of the table. "Not at Hogwarts," she said—a large, drooping white peony held her attention. "Too much magic—nothing that requires an electrical current will work there. We've used owls for centuries—your lot never notice."

"Fascinating," she breathed, resting her chin upon her hand. "So, Prudence is aware of Freddie and Freddie is aware of Prudence?"

"Yes," she answered, taking a soft petal between her thumb and forefinger. "Seemed quite keen to meet her. Does he have much exposure to magical children?"

Sophie lifted her chin from her hand and shook her head. "I wouldn't know," she said, tracing circles upon the crisp white tablecloth. "Do you think Freddie is missing out by not going to that school?"

"It's easier for him, I think…from my experience, at least," she said, quickly surveying the people milling about the tent. "He might be considered a bit eccentric, but not like the _elusive _Lady Althea…all that dodging I had to do. Try to explain attending American schools when there are proper English ones."

"I wouldn't have cared," Sophie replied—she, too, looking about. "And they were all too drunk or too self-involved to care."

"We all were."

"Indeed," she laughed quietly. "But, truly, I never knew."

"No, you didn't."

"And I'm your dearest friend."

"Of course, you are—"

"You old slag," she finished and tenderly patted Althea's hand. "It amazes me, though...this life. I've listened in, once or twice, on his lessons with the tutor." Sophie laughed quietly. "Dragons?"

Althea nodded. "Are very much real," she said and furrowed her eyebrows. "That tutor…is Freddie happy with him?"

Sophie shrugged. "I think so."

"Oh," she murmured. "It's just—I have this friend—he's fantastic and I think Freddie would do well with him."

"Who?"

"Remus," she answered as a flute of champagne was placed before her.

"Remus?" Sophie smirked. "I haven't seen him in ages…thought he abandoned our lot for more academic pastures."

"It," she began and pushed the flute toward the center of the table, "didn't go as planned."

"Ah, I see," she murmured and took a sip of champagne.

"He's brilliant with children," she explained as Sophie held the flute to her lips, considering Althea's words. "Very patient and—I think—he and Freddie would get on well together."

"I'll talk with James," she said and sipped her champagne. "I don't see a problem."

"Good," she said and smiled, relieved. Her smile was brief for she frowned at a group of men that just entered the tent. "They're all here, aren't they?"

Still good-looking and dressed in a fine navy suit, a laughing John Harrington slapped the equally handsome Geoffrey Ashby upon the back. Althea's eyes followed the group of men that trailed behind two. She groaned quietly when they sat at a table near them. John Harrington smoothed the wavy blond hair from his face and, in doing so, caught sight of Althea. He slowly smiled.

"Oh dear," Althea murmured.

John winked.

Althea made a face and swallowed.

"Oh, don't make that pouty face of yours," she said and leaned close. "I've shagged most of them, as well, if that makes you feel better."

Althea laughed halfheartedly. "You are very loathsome, you know that."

"Oh, look at that," Sophie murmured, gently kicking Althea from under the table.

Althea lifted her face to observe what commanded Sophie's attention, and she reflexively caught her breath. There, at the entrance of the tent, stood Sirius Black. Sirius, with his hands in the pockets of his grey trousers, looked about the tent with that casual air of boredom, but his eyes betrayed his earnest search for a familiar face. He smiled crookedly as their eyes met. Althea smiled weakly. Sirius entered the tent—the stares of a few women followed his course toward Althea's table.

"You never answered," Sophie whispered. "Is he like you?"

Althea nodded as Sirius walked by the group of men that caused her uneasiness. The black-haired Ashby nudged John, who frowned at Sirius.

"They're all gorgeous, aren't they?"

Althea observed Sirius's transformed reflection in the large sliver bowl. "No, not really."

Sirius stopped at Althea's side and bent forward. "Hello, lovely," he murmured and kissed her cheek.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered through gritted teeth.

Sirius shrugged. "Fulfilling my duties," he whispered and kissed her cheek once more. He roughly sat next to Althea and surveyed the crowd. He nodded at John Harrington.

John Harrington reluctantly nodded.

Sirius slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Boring, isn't it?"

"Incredibly," Althea answered, wary of the group near them.

"_Stephen_," Sophie said, sitting forward.

Sirius let his arm fall from Althea's shoulders. "Ah, Sophie, how could I have forgotten?" he said happily, and stood to greet her.

"All men forget when Althea's round," she murmured, kissing his cheek.

"Sophie, really," Althea laughed quietly, awkwardly.

"Where is your George?" he asked, pulling away from Sophie.

"Conveniently at a lecture," she answered, wrinkling her nose. "I didn't think you'd come—"

"To this?" he remarked, looking about him. "I wouldn't miss it—"

Sophie let out a shriek of laughter. "You are a _fantastic _liar!"

Sirius smiled and shrugged, messing the back of his hair.

"We're very happy you came," she said and joined Althea once more at the table. "Especially our Althea, I'm sure of it."

Althea inhaled deeply as Sirius returned to his chair.

Sirius slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Where is our Prudence?" he whispered, frowning slightly.

"With a friend."

"Friend? What friend?" he asked, looking around. "I didn't know she'd know anyone from this lot."

"She didn't," she replied, with a small, proud smile. "I introduced her to Sophie's nephew, Freddie—"

"Freddie…a boy, though?" he wondered, loosening his tie. "How old is he?"

"Thirteen, I think," she said, placing her hand upon his grey jacket sleeve. "He doesn't have many magic friends, I reckon. He seemed eager to learn about Hogwarts."

"I bet he was."

Althea laughed. "He's _thirteen_, my love," she whispered. "At that age, you enjoyed tricking me to eat Cockroach Clusters—"

Sirius folded his arms. "This Freddie…what's he like?"

"He's a good boy," she said and Sirius frowned at her. "He doesn't have many magic friends…you remember how difficult it was for me. If anything, he's probably bored by now because our Prudence won't stop talking."

"True," he murmured. "Is he any good?"

"At magic? I believe so…but Prudence is exceptional," she said and playfully poked his arm.

"Takes after her father," he said quietly and fought a yawn. "How long are we to stay?"

"You just arrived—"

Sophie leaned forward, her face mischievous. "Stephen, have you met everyone?"

Sirius shook his head.

"As Althea refuses to talk to anybody," Sophie said and stood, "I'll introduce you."

Sirius made a face. "I don't think—"

"Oh, don't be antisocial like Althea!" she said, pulling out his chair.

"Really, I came—"

"Don't be a bore!" she demanded, placing her hands upon Sirius's thin shoulders. She frowned slightly. "No one has to know what you are," she whispered loudly into his ear.

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. "You told her?"

"I promise I won't ask to see your wand," she said and winked at Althea. "Although with our Althea's appetite it has to be impressive."

Althea giggled at Sirius, who was slightly pink and murmured about Muggles and clichés.

"She won't listen to no," Althea said, smirking as Sirius gave her a begging look. "Go on, then!"

"Moony warned me about this," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Make sure he meets Lady A," she said, nodding in the direction of Gran and Lady Applewood. "I'm sure Gran would be delighted to introduce him."

Sirius made a face.

"It's serious, then?" Sophie asked, her eyes eager.

"Very," she said, and gently bit her bottom lip to stifle her giggling.

Sophie gasped and clapped Sirius upon the back. "Oh, Lady M has waited for this day since the day of Althea's birth," she said, grinning mischievously. "I'll have to clear my calendar for next summer, of course."

"Of course," Althea chimed and refused to look Sirius directly in the eye.

"What are you—"

"Just go with Sophie, dear," she said and attempted to have him stand.

Sirius reluctantly stood. "I should've listened to Moony."

"Shouldn't we all," Althea said and winked.

Sophie linked her arms with Sirius and immediately pulled him forward. Althea sighed happily as she enjoyed having a little fun at Sirius's expense. Sophie (to Althea's relief) bypassed the table of Althea's former lovers and directed Sirius to Gran and Lady A. Gran's face immediately turned white, as Sophie—no doubt—introduced Sirius as Althea's fiancé. Sirius took such unexpected news with aplomb; although, Althea did notice his skin had the slightest shade of pink at Sophie's introduction. Althea sunk in her chair—her view partially obscured by the large floral centerpiece. In her solitude, Althea allowed herself to wonder what would have happened if it were Pettigrew sent to Azkaban and Sirius free. Where would the couple stand? Would they still be together? Sirius's mother had died almost ten years ago, and once at the age of twenty-five, the WED Act was null. Would they have married? Althea placed her hand upon her stomach, as she felt decidedly queasy from the thought of herself in a long white gown, professing her vows of marriage to Sirius in the Northfield chapel. _I reckon we're as good as_, she thought as Lady A forced the gentleman sitting next to her to move so Sirius could sit. _I'd hate to be known as Mrs. Black. It would remind me of his mother and I loathe her almost as much as him_.

Althea knew he did not come to this party for her or for her amusement. Sirius came for Prudence. Prudence was a part of him, and Althea knew he felt that ache inside him. It was constant and unyielding, just as it was in her. He longed to be in her presence, for her to know him, and most of all, never to forget him. When Sirius chose to be in his friendly Animagus shape, the two were inseparable and Althea could tag along without fear of it looking strange. _You never would've left Bermuda once she was born_, she thought as Lady A blushed and giggled at something Sirius said—Gran scowled. _Because you can't leave her now_.

Althea stood from her table and exited the tent. She was sure Prudence would be delighted to know Stephen was there; although, that morning, she seemed less excited at his presence. It was less than a week until the Hogwarts Express left London for Hogwarts, and Prudence believed she had not yet received her letter. Althea's stomach leapt with pleasant anticipation. _You'll know you're returning to Hogwarts soon_, she thought easing the large white hat from her hair. As she walked along the hedgerows, Althea delighted in the pride she would feel—just as her father must have felt—in handing her daughter the letter for the school year. White and yellow butterflies flitted across the grass-covered path. She inhaled deeply in the knowledge that she had someone else at her side that would fight for Prudence. _I pray that one day, you'll know how much we love you, how much we've sacrificed and done for you_.

Still, she could not help but feel some guilt in circumventing the Parkers' authority. No matter what magical law or spell, the Parkers were Prudence's mother and father, and—most importantly—Prudence felt so. She wouldn't be so flippant with Mrs. Parker's relationship with Prudence. _I wasn't there_. Althea lowered her head, running the brim of her hat along her fingertips. What conclusion would such a girl make after exposure to Althea's life? Of the houses, and parties, and the faces once only glimpsed in a glossy magazine? To the outsider, a child would have spoilt Althea's fun.

Althea growled quietly. "Stop it, you silly girl," she whispered, digging her nails into the brim. "Stop it."

_We will make them understand_, she thought, carrying the hat at her side. _I won't use that law—I just won't. The Parkers will see that she is an exceptional witch, and we will come to an agreement_. Althea turned into the maze, but did not find Prudence and Freddie there. She sighed, pursed her lips, and thought all the places two young magical children could go. Althea's eyes immediately directed themselves to Lady A's roof, but no tiny figures could be seen.

"I remember that roof well," she whispered with a small smile.

Freddie was eight years old when his parents discovered he was magical. Althea had known since the age of two, when Freddie in a grand tantrum, exploded a few of the light bulbs in the chandelier above the table in Lady A's dining room. She kept her observations to herself—as did Gran—until Freddie was eight and his magical ability could no longer be explained away on faulty wiring. That afternoon, as Althea sat in the garden, listening to Marianne Fairchild-Forsythe drone on about some banal gossip, she caught sight of a small figure upon the roof. Immediately making her excuses to Marianne, Althea sought to investigate what was lurking about Lady A's roof. Satisfied that she was alone, she transformed and flew atop the roof to see Freddie panicked and frantically yelling for anyone to hear. Althea was able to calm the boy by explaining to him that what happened was perfectly normal for a special boy like him and that she, too, could perform that same magic. Before that wide-eyed little boy, she demonstrated the feat of Apparition. Then, she spent a half hour demonstrating all sorts of spells and charms to his delight. When a frantic Sophie and James found the pair, it was Althea who explained to them the very big secret. She believed the brother and sister took it well (although his mother did need the help of a psychotherapist for a short period of time), but it was decided that Freddie would not attend Hogwarts. _He is doing very well_, she thought and plucked a daisy from the flowerbed. She twirled the velvet stem between her fingers. She heard Sirius sigh next to her.

"Had enough?"

"God, yes," he said and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I had to get away."

"I try to spend my entire summer holiday away so I don't have to attend these awful parties," she said, staring at the fluffy yellow center of the daisy. "Did Lady A congratulate you?"

"Yes, she did," he said, leaning close. "You're awful."

Althea shrugged—her lips quivered into a nervous smile. "I reckoned it was about time," she said, twirling the stem faster.

Sirius laughed quietly. "Let's go to London and register straight away."

"You wouldn't dare step into the Ministry."

"If I had good reason," he said, and cleared his throat.

He gently pried the daisy from Althea's fingers and tapped his wand against the stem. The stem wiggled, curved, and twisted until it formed a small circle. He took Althea's left hand and slipped the makeshift ring upon her finger.

"What are you getting at?" she asked, attempting to laugh.

Sirius shrugged and flicked a white petal.

Althea swallowed. "Sirius Black, do you want to marry me?"

The corners of his mouth curved into a small smile.

Suddenly, Althea saw a fleck of something blue over Sirius' shoulder. "What the—" she murmured and gasped when she saw Freddie sprawled out in the air. "Oh God!"

Sirius frowned. "What?" he asked and turned his head. "Well done!" he laughed and attempted to suppress his amusement at Althea's panicked expression. "I—er—reckon we should take care of this?"

Althea nodded. "Don't congratulate her."

"It'll be difficult," he murmured before the couple Apparated.

Althea arrived to see Prudence's wand arm outstretched, giggling, as Freddie—giggling, too—somersaulted in the air. Sirius, of course, could not contain his delight and let out a bark-like laugh, which alerted the children of their presence. Prudence gasped.

"Keep your arm up!" Sirius encouraged, smiling proudly as he placed his hand on Prudence's shoulder. "We don't want him to fall."

"And we don't want him to be spotted by Muggles," Althea said as Prudence's smile faded.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

Althea not taking her eyes off the floating boy replied, "Slightly."

"Well done," Sirius said, his eyes locked upon Freddie. "Now, slowly lower your wand…good…good…gentle now…excellent."

Freddie landed upon his feet and quickly walked toward Prudence. "That was amazing," he said, smiling. "I shall ask for a broom—"

Prudence's cheeks turned pale pink.

"I think it best you go back, Freddie," Althea said as Freddie continued to stare appreciatively at Prudence. "Freddie?"

"Oh—oh, right, sorry," he said and smoothed his light brown hair. "Bye, Prudence."

"Bye," she said, smoothing a long black curl behind her ear.

Freddie stooped to grab his jacket and trotted off into the distance.

"You have to admit," Sirius began—very pleased with himself, "that was bloody good magic."

"Yes, it was," she said, fighting her own smile, "but no magic outside of Northfield or Hogwarts."

Sirius groaned.

"You shouldn't teach her spells like that," she said, poking his chest with her forefinger. "It isn't—"

"I didn't teach her that!" he laughed.

"Professor Lupin did."

Sirius laughed. "See, Professor Lupin did."

Althea quietly growled, which caused Sirius to laugh louder. "He didn't intend for you to use it here," she said as Prudence found it very difficult to keep her solemn face. "This place is _overwhelmingly_ Muggle, and all we _need _is the Ministry showing up to ruin Lady A's party." Althea, too, found it very difficult to keep her stern appearance for her lips quivered into a smile at the thought of Gran's horrified expression.

Suddenly, a tawny colored owl swooped from the sky and glided toward Prudence. Prudence groaned as the owl landed before her. Sirius did not seem too concerned—he seemed a little _pleased_. She bent to retrieve the envelope and Althea saw the Ministry seal. Timidly, Prudence opened the letter and gulped. Sirius grabbed the letter and Prudence made a weak attempt to retrieve it. He held it high as he read.

"Give it back," Althea warned.

He whistled. "Your second notice this summer holiday?" he said, raising an eyebrow at Prudence.

Prudence looked mortified.

He snorted with laughter as he crumpled the letter. "I got loads of these when I was younger," he said and winked at Prudence. "We all do."

Prudence looked toward Althea.

Althea shrugged. "I might've gotten one," she said, not making eye contact with Prudence.

"One," he murmured, laughing lowly. "I reckon they hired some poor sod just to send me them, too…the amount of quills and ink wasted."

"That's not something to be proud of," Althea said as Sirius raised his wand.

Sirius threw the crumpled correspondence into the air and with a theatrical flourish of his wand, the paper disintegrated. Prudence, white, watched the tiny smoldering embers float carelessly toward the earth.

"The Ministry has better things to do than to terrorize our Prudence," he said, twirling his wand between his fingers.

Prudence, staring at Sirius, said, "Like catching Sirius Black."

Sirius leaned closely to Prudence, and replied, "Likely."

"I know your secret!" she blurted out and quickly clasped her hand over her mouth—her eyes wide.

Althea and Sirius were quiet. The silence was interrupted by the sound of chirping birds rustling in the hedges behind them.

"I—I realized last night," Prudence said, wringing her hands together. She rose and fell on the balls of her feet. "I know who you are."

The two looked from Prudence to one another. Sirius, ghostly white, opened his mouth to speak, but Althea spoke first, "It's best if we return to Northfield."

Sirius, shaking, stepped forward. "I never—"

"We'll explain to her at Northfield," Althea said and inhaled a deep breath. "Everything."

Sirius looked from Althea to Prudence and nodded. With a _pop, _Sirius was gone.

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! Xter, thank you so much for your review/comments. Redemption is a theme that runs through many of the characters' storylines.

Please feel free to comment or to leave a review.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Prudence said and bit her bottom lip. "I just—"

Althea grasped Prudence's trembling arm and prepared for Side-Along Apparition. "This isn't the place," she said and prayed her own trembling legs would get them safely to Northfield. "Hold on."

Sirius rushed forward once the pair entered the entrance hall. Prudence let go of Althea and folded her arms.

"My quarters?" Althea offered.

"No," Prudence said, shaking her head, "follow me."

Prudence quickly walked up the staircase and the couple followed after. Althea tightly held Sirius' sweaty hand throughout the corridor. Silently, they followed Prudence who walked three steps ahead into Althea's adolescent bedroom. Prudence motioned for them to sit upon the bed. Althea placed her large white hat beside her and clasped her shaky hands in her lap. Sirius, his head bent, seemed to stare through the floor. Prudence, chewing her bottom lip, paced before them. _How did you discover_, Althea wondered as Prudence stopped her pacing. Sure, they had been lax and often candid in their evaluations and opinions of Sirius (how could they not), but they did it with the intention of creating a favorable view because—it seemed—Prudence had taken an interest to him. If she were to return to Hogwarts, such stories were to ease her mind and subtly convince her that Sirius wasn't the bogeyman that would threaten her. The couple had taken every precaution to hide Sirius's true identity, and they were very careful in separating Sirius from Stephen. How did Sophie, who knew Sirius, not recognize him, but Prudence did? What did that little girl know?

"Don't be cross with me," she said, looking as though she was about to burst into tears. "This house is just so fantastic and I wanted to know its secrets. I went exploring…and I found the attic."

What felt like ice water washed over Althea's insides—Prudence must have discovered her trunk. Prudence's inquiries about Sirius were not due to Snape's meddling, but were due to what she discovered in Althea's old Hogwarts trunk. Photographs, gifts, love letters—Althea's stomach churned with uneasiness. What little girl wouldn't be fascinated with such a discovery? Althea swallowed the bile that rose into her throat. How did such a little girl break those charms? Sirius covered his face with his hands and sighed.

"I forgot to recast the charms," he muttered and ran his fingers through his thick black hair.

"She would've discovered eventually," Althea whispered and took Sirius's hand in hers. "It's best we tell her now."

Sirius brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

"Prudence, please sit," Althea said, but Prudence shook her head.

The young girl walked to the nightstand and opened the drawer. She frowned slightly as she shuffled through papers and objects until she found something small and quickly clasped it in her hand. She walked toward Althea with her hands behind her back.

"I'm sorry," she said, holding out her hand for Althea.

Althea took the thick, smooth rectangular paper from Prudence's shaking, sweaty hands. Althea's eyes widened as she held her wedding photograph. She turned over the photograph and read in Sirius's handwriting:

_Althea and Sirius Black: a grand wedding affair attended by no one. _

_Barbados, June 1980._

"I'm so sorry," Prudence said as Althea continued to look at the photograph. "I shouldn't have—"

Althea held up her hand. _I wasn't yet twenty_, she thought as the two—Althea dressed in a white minidress and Sirius in a beige linen suit—stood in front of hibiscus shrubs. Althea had taken one of the red hibiscus flowers and placed it in her hair. The Althea in the photograph held her makeshift bouquet at her side and smiled weakly as Sirius—who grinned and shook with laughter—slipped his arm around Althea's waist and snuck a kiss. _As if you weren't gagging for it_, she thought and laughed quietly.

"You're a keen storyteller, Sirius," Althea said and showed him the photograph.

Sirius took the photograph in his hands and inhaled a sharp breath. "You know my little secret."

"It isn't a little secret," Prudence said as she stood before him. "When I realized it—last night—you changed. It's why I fainted," she explained and looked Sirius directly in the eye. "You're Sirius Black, aren't you?"

Sirius nodded slowly.

Prudence stepped before Althea. "And you're…the Muggle Studies professor."

Althea nodded.

Prudence frowned thoughtfully. "You're not like what they say," she said, wringing her hands in front of her. "You're—"

"I was falsely imprisoned," Sirius interrupted, sitting forward. "You have to believe that, please. I _never_ did those horrible things, I swear to you. I would never hurt you, Prudence," he said with desperation in his voice. He reached out for her hand, but thought better of it. "I would never hurt you."

Prudence inhaled a shaky breath. "I've gathered," she said and looked from Sirius to Althea. "I'm so sorry. You've been so good to me. You trusted me and—"

Althea reached out for Prudence's hand. Althea's expression was earnest. "Prudence, I so want to tell you everything, I swear to you, but you are so young—I don't say it to cause offense—please know that someday, I will tell you everything, I promise you. You will know every circumstance, every opinion, every feeling in my heart," she said, placing their clasped hands to her chest. She could feel the words for almost thirteen years she longed to say behind her lips. "I'm sorry that I've deceived you," she said and tenderly squeezed her tiny hand. "I shouldn't have put you in a position like this, and I hope, you can forgive me."

Prudence nodded. "It's all right now, and I won't tell, I promise."

Sirius shook his head. "No, no, it isn't," he said, solemnly looking at Prudence. "You deserve to know what happened."

Althea caught her breath.

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. "What I did this last year—I should've gone about it a better way," he said and rubbed the side of his face. "But I thought I had no one and for good reason…and I was so _obsessed_…I wanted justice." He held up his wand and transfigured a squashy pink chair for Prudence.

"Thank you," she murmured as she sat.

"Will you help me tell her?" he asked and gently squeezed Althea's hand.

Althea nodded. "Of course."

"Right," he breathed, his hands massaging Althea's hand. "God, I never thought—where do I begin?"

"October?" Althea suggested.

Sirius shook his head. "Earlier."

"Earlier?"

"Yes, much earlier," he said, his eyes pleading. "It is the only way she could understand."

Althea, with slight hesitation, nodded.

Sirius inhaled and exhaled through his nostrils. "Prudence, if there is one thing you must believe, you must understand that I loathed everything Voldemort stood for…my family," he began to explain and licked his lips, "thought he had the right idea about things."

Prudence remained silent—her lips slightly parted.

"They were _obsessed_ with blood purity," he said and swallowed bitterly, "and the Dark Arts. Gran is right when she says that nothing good—"

"_No_," Althea interrupted.

"They're _not _my family," he said, staring into Althea's eyes. "I'm glad I was disowned."

Prudence let out a small gasp.

Sirius directed his attention once more to Prudence as he continued, "I was so fed up with their lies that I ran away from home."

Prudence sat forward. "You ran away from home?" she asked—her expression betrayed the concept was quite foreign to her.

Sirius nodded, and Prudence stared—wide-eyed—at him. "Wanted me to become a Death Eater, but no amount of, " he said and swallowed, "_coercion_ could change my mind. I'd had enough."

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen," he said and Prudence sank back in her chair. "At seventeen, I joined an organization to defeat Voldemort."

"Did you join?"

"She was just as good as," Sirius answered with a small smile. "A Healer was of tremendous help to us. Death Eaters didn't like it when their victims lived."

Prudence looked upon Althea with the same awe-filled appreciation as she did when Sirius described his escape from Voldemort.

"We were such a small group, though," he said and leaned forward. "Not many people wanted to join our group, and by October of '81, we were outnumbered twenty to one."

"Twenty to one?" Prudence breathed.

Sirius nodded. "Most were too afraid to fight," he explained. "It meant your family was a target, too."

"God," Prudence whispered, looking at the couple.

"By that point, the war was all but lost, and my first obligation was to protect Althea and those I loved…. We were to go into hiding, but before, I had to complete one last mission," he explained and sighed sadly. He looked to Althea—his eyes wet with tears. "I'll never forgive myself for leaving you alone that night—for not telling you about that one last mission. I should've stayed—"

"No," she said and stroked his cheek. "I loved them just as much as you." Althea inhaled and, not turning away from Sirius, spoke, "I was alone in our cottage when I was attacked."

Prudence gasped.

"I was taken from our home and tortured," she said and Prudence let out a soft sob.

Sirius handed Prudence his handkerchief. "When I returned, I saw the Dark Mark over our home, and I knew what happened. I'd lost everything," he said, and wrinkled his brow as he flexed and extended Althea's fingers. "I was so reckless. I had nothing to lose—everyone I loved was gone…and I wanted to be with you. I had one last thing I had to do before I…I had to find the filth that betrayed us."

"And you did," Althea whispered.

"And I did," he said and bit the inside of his cheek. Sirius's demeanor turned inward. "I cornered him in that street, but he had it all planned. He knew that after what he'd done, I would find him, but before I could confront him, he exploded the street behind him and disappeared," he explained and shook with rage. "He left me with my wand in my hand, surrounded by dead and dying Muggles."

Prudence covered her mouth with the handkerchief.

"It didn't matter," he said, refusing to look at Althea or Prudence. "For twelve years, I thought I'd killed you. I deserved Azkaban."

"No!" Prudence said, slamming her fist against the chair.

Prudence's outburst jolted them from their somber reverie. Althea swallowed hard as she looked upon Sirius. Sirius allowed his hair to cover his face and he sniffed.

"No," she repeated quietly.

Sirius opened his mouth, but did not speak. Instead, he slowly closed his mouth and squeezed Althea's hand.

Prudence shifted in her chair. "What happened to you?" she asked. "What did you do?"

Althea refused to look at Prudence's face. "I was half dead," she said, looking to Prudence's white shoes with grass stains about the toes. "Sirius was already in Azkaban when I was questioned by the Ministry. I didn't believe for one moment my Sirius was Dark, let alone second in command to Voldemort, but the officials wouldn't listen. They were convinced he'd sent the Death Eaters—"

"That is remarkably stupid!" Prudence said, sitting forward. "You love one another!"

Sirius laughed bitterly. "The Ministry didn't care."

"No, they didn't," she said, finally feeling the courage to look into Prudence's eyes. "I pleaded for them to give him a trial, but I was threatened with Azkaban—"

"But—"

"Don't judge her," Sirius said, holding Althea's hand tightly. "You have no idea how much she's sacrificed—"

"Sirius, _please_," Althea warned and looked toward the ceiling.

"I wasn't about to," she replied quietly. "I would never judge her."

Sirius nodded. "Sorry," he murmured, his thumb stroking the back of Althea's hand.

She twisted the handkerchief in her hands. "I wanted to know how you escaped," she continued, almost strangling the handkerchief. "Why wait so long?"

"Oh, right," he murmured, his face twisted into a painful expression. "How I escaped…"

Althea let out a heavy sigh. "You're going to have to tell her."

Sirius looked upon Althea pleadingly.

"It's the only way it'll make sense."

"Maybe we should get Moony—"

"You frightened the entire Gryffindor student body," she said, letting go of his hand. "You owe her that much."

Sirius leaned close. "I don't want to," he whispered into Althea's ear.

"Did you tell your godson?" she whispered through gritted teeth.

Sirius nodded faintly.

"Then tell _her_."

Sirius sighed. "I don't want to upset her."

Althea pulled away. "Upset—" she began, but stopped at Sirius's desperate look.

Sirius Black did not want to reveal his Animagus form to Prudence. His Animagus form that brought her comfort and protection—all those things a father would provide. _She does trust us very much_, she thought and nodded with understanding.

"Just the basics, then?" she offered, taking his hand.

Sirius nodded.

Prudence looked at the couple with peaked interest.

"Shall I begin?"

"Yeah, whatever," Sirius said dully.

Althea gently bit her bottom lip as Prudence waited for her speak. "You remember that book I lent you…the one about werewolves?"

Prudence nodded.

"Do you remember what it said about the transformed on the full moon?"

Prudence scratched the tip of her nose. "It said a lot."

Sirius laughed quietly.

"It did, didn't it? I'll have to think of a better question," she remarked and screwed up her eyes in thought. "Could I, in my present state, visit with Professor Lupin on a full moon?"

"No, he'd eat you."

Sirius let out an inappropriate laugh and Althea violently nudged him.

"Indeed, but do you remember if there was a way I could visit with him during a full moon?"

Prudence furrowed her eyebrows. "You could be an animal."

"Good," she said with a small, encouraging smile. "Do you remember what that is called?"

Prudence shook her head.

"Animagus," Sirius said with a small smile. "You could be an Animagus."

Althea nodded. "When a wizard chooses to become an Animagus, he would be able to spend the full moon with a werewolf," she explained, interlocking her arm with Sirius. "The werewolf transformations can be unbearable—especially if one doesn't have access to Wolfsbane—and an Animagus could make the transformations somewhat tolerable."

Prudence's expression transformed from concern to surprise. "Are you an Animagus?"

Sirius placed his forefinger to his lips and nodded.

"What are—"

"In due time," Althea said and squeezed Sirius's hand. "Sirius, my love, would you like to tell her the rest?"

Prudence sat forward and bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

Sirius pulled away from Althea. "He was our friend and, I thought, such a good friend as to become an Animgaus for Remus," he said, resting his hand behind Althea. "If I'd known he would've exploited—"

"You were just a boy, my love," Althea said to calm him.

Sirius's expression became dark. "It was how he escaped," he continued the anger palpable in his voice. "Transformed into the rat he was and scurried into the sewer. He then spent the next twelve years as the pampered pet of a Wizarding family while I rotted away in Azkaban."

Prudence sneered with disgust.

"Indeed," he muttered. "I only discovered the truth last summer when I spotted his photograph in the _Daily Prophet_…all that was left of him was a finger, and there he was, a plump little rat missing a toe," he continued and shook his head. "That fat f—"

"_Sirius_."

"_Filth_," he corrected, "became so complacent, and it was only by the stupidity of our dear Minister of Magic as he made his rounds of Azkaban that I discovered his whereabouts."

"Hogwarts," Prudence breathed.

Sirius nodded. "I immediately set about my escape," he said, a crease formed between his eyebrows. "Dementors can't sense animal emotions, and I had enough magic left in me that I was able to transform. I'd become so thin, I slipped through the bars and swam to shore."

Prudence's hands grasped the arms of the chair. "Did you find him?"

Sirius nodded. "And I'm sorry that I scared you to do it."

"What happened?" she wondered, frowning. "Wouldn't you be free?"

Sirius sighed sadly. "He got away…again."

Prudence's bottom lip trembled.

"But," he said and forced a cheerful smile, "those I love know the truth."

"_Still_—"

"You're right," he said, sitting up. "It's not fair to Althea."

"How so?" Althea asked.

Sirius flicked the wilted daisy upon Althea's hand.

Althea's lips quivered into a smile.

"And it's definitely not fair to you," he said, smoothing the hair from his face. "You shouldn't be burdened with this. You're so young—"

"I don't care," Prudence said, sitting up. "It isn't a burden. It's the truth."

Sirius leaned forward. "You believe what we've told you?" he asked. "What I told you?"

Prudence nodded. "You're not what they say," she said, rolling the handkerchief into a ball, "and you could've hurt me loads of times—"

Althea's heart quivered in her chest.

"You're innocent," Prudence finished.

Sirius let out a quiet, small gasp. His eyes bright with tears, he grinned as he looked upon Prudence. The hardened look of Azkaban seemed to have faded in that moment and he resembled more of that young man in the photograph he held. Althea did not hesitate and kissed his smooth cheek.

"She knows," she whispered excitedly into Sirius's ear, "and she understands."

"She doesn't know everything," he whispered, looking into Althea's eyes.

"She knows you're innocent—"

Sirius smiled and pulled an envelope from his breast pocket. Althea saw the flash of the Hogwarts seal and grinned. _It's how it should've been_, she thought as Prudence peered at the envelope. _That we give you your letter_.

"This came for you today," Sirius said, handing Prudence the letter. "Looked rather important."

Prudence gasped.

"It was in a letter from Dumbledore," Althea said and winked. "Must've realized you were here."

Prudence eagerly unfolded the letter and her eyes quickly scanned its contents. "Genevieve received her letter two weeks ago!" she said, looking up from the letter. "We thought I wasn't to go!"

"You're a remarkable witch," he said, leaning closer. "You have to go."

Prudence looked at the couple—her expression pure joy. She and Sirius brought Prudence this joy. Prudence returned to the letter and gently chewed her bottom lip. Althea felt small tears of happiness well in the corners of her eyes—she blinked quickly. How absurd for the Professor of Muggle Studies to cry at such an event!

"Tomorrow, we'll go to Diagon Alley," Althea said, grinning. "We'll make a day of it, I think."

Prudence looked up from her letter—a small crease between her eyebrows. "Will you go…in your disguise?"

Sirius laughed nervously. "I wouldn't want to chance it," he said and squeezed Althea's hand. "No, go and enjoy your day with our Althea."

Prudence sighed contentedly as she looked upon the couple. "Thank you," she said, folding the letter.

* * *

"Do you think we told her too much?"

Althea sat at her dressing table, the warm glow of the crystal lamps softly illuminated her face in the mirror. Was it reckless? The couple had been very candid in the events surrounding Sirius's arrest and false imprisonment. She was so very young, and Althea was unsure if Prudence truly understood the gravity of such a revelation. Prudence was now privy to the truth of his innocence and the veiled circumstances of her birth. Althea studied Sirius who sat behind her upon the bed. Dressed for dinner, his hands resting behind him, he looked at ease—his expression soft. He tossed the hair from his eyes and grinned as he noticed Althea staring at him.

"I don't think so," he said as Althea placed the back upon her earring. "She doesn't know as much as Harry."

"She doesn't need to know," she said, standing.

Sirius smiled crookedly as he took her hand. "Of course," he said and kissed her fingers. "You…haven't told the old woman, have you?"

"That Prudence knows that Stephen and Sirius are one in the same?" she replied as she adjusted Sirius's tie. "No."

Sirius laughed lowly. "Excellent."

Prudence and Afina were giggling in the corner of the informal dining room when the couple entered. Prudence quickly stopped at nudged Afina.

"What do you think, Auntie?" Afina asked, nodding toward Prudence.

Althea smiled at the frock created by Afina. "Very lovely," she said, admiring the pink embroidery along the hem. "You would do well at Hogwarts, you know."

"I reckon I would," she said, but pulled a face. "Gran has arrived."

Gran, in stately sapphire robes, walked forward to the end of the table. "Everyone."

Althea fought the urge to groan.

As the Althea received the entrée, Gran spoke to Sirius, "I thought you had business to attend to and wouldn't join us this evening."

Sirius smiled. "I wouldn't miss dinner with you," he said and took a bite of lamb.

Gran frowned slightly and cut into her lamb with more vigor.

Sirius chuckled to himself.

"I'm taking the car to London tomorrow," Althea said and smiled at Prudence. "Have a bit of shopping in Diagon Alley."

Prudence grinned.

"Althea Rosemary—"

"I can assure you that we won't be seen," she said and slyly looked toward Sirius. "Our dear Sirius was kind enough to reinforce the Invisibility Charm."

Gran paled.

"Invisibility Charm?" Prudence said, her eyes widening with excitement.

"You'll see," Sirius said and smirked, "or you won't."

"Sirius," Althea said as Gran's lips thinned, "don't tease her."

"Sorry," he said and winked.

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! What is in store for Althea? Diagon Alley and an old friend.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The early afternoon sun had warmed the metal to an uncomfortable temperature, and Althea winced as she lifted herself from the hot car door. She glanced at the beige leather interior and cast a Cooling Charm. _Burns upon our bums would surely ruin this fantastic day_, she thought and absently rested her hands behind her against the car door. She felt a searing pain and hastily lifted her hands from the car door. Shaking her hands, she cast a dark look upon the vintage automobile. However, her sour mood was quickly broken for, to her left, she heard multiple footsteps in the gravel. She smiled and tightened the filmy lilac scarf under her chin, turning to face Sirius and Prudence.

Sirius's gaze was affixed to the car behind her.

"As if I'd take Floo," she said when the two joined her at the car.

Sirius sighed appreciatively as he looked upon the gleaming scarlet drophead. "How I missed her," he whispered, his steps slow along the length of the car. "Beautiful," he murmured, lazily running his fingertips along the car's curves—and Althea had to admit—much like he touched her. "Absolutely beautiful."

Althea smirked and folded her arms. "Are you finished?"

Sirius shook his head—his grey eyes took in the exquisite example of Italian Muggle ingenuity. _I know what to give him for his birthday…again_, she thought as Sirius bit his bottom lip, joining her at the driver's side.

"The scorch marks are gone," he murmured and chuckled knowingly.

Althea gently nudged him.

"Is that?" Prudence whispered and raised an eyebrow.

Althea nodded. "My father bought it upon my birth," she said, opening the car door. "He had quite the collection upon his death."

"The fact your bookish father owned such a glorious piece of Muggle machinery amazes me," he said, opening the car door for Prudence.

Althea slipped on her large black sunglasses. "Right," she sighed and smiled at Prudence. "The road is ready and the sky is clear."

Sirius leaned over the door and dangled a small burgundy pouch before Prudence. "I reckon this will cover everything," he said, gently swinging the pouch before Prudence's eyes.

Prudence frowned.

"Go on," he said and shook the pouch so the coins would jingle. "Take it."

"I—I have my own, thanks."

"_Please_?"

Althea smiled faintly as she checked her lipstick in the rearview mirror.

"I really shouldn't—"

Sirius sighed. "I have more money than I know what to do with," he said and grasped Prudence's hand. "Here," he said and dropped the burgundy pouch in Prudence's reluctant hand.

"He doesn't understand the word no…take it."

"Come on…take it."

Althea recognized within Prudence that malleable feeling Sirius could produce. Sirius flashed an encouraging smile.

"Go on, then," he whispered, shaking the pouch ever so slightly, "take it."

Prudence reluctantly clasped the pouch in her hand. "Thank you," she murmured and swallowed.

"You're welcome," he said and happily drummed his hands against the door. He winked at Althea.

"We'll return before evening," she said, starting the engine.

Sirius wrinkled his nose.

"Gran is gone," she said over the idling engine. "You could always visit Remus."

Sirius shrugged. "I'll find ways to amuse myself," he said and smiled crookedly. "Don't worry."

Althea nodded and shifted into gear. Prudence gasped as her head snapped back. Althea grinned at the cloud of dust and gravel behind them in her rearview mirror.

"Not as fast as a Firebolt," she said as they sped past the tree-lined entrance, "but more pleasing, I think."

Althea made a sharp right out of Northfield at which Prudence reached for the door handle. _Right_, she thought and quickly looked at the blurred surroundings. No Muggles could be seen, and she grinned mischievously as her fingers tightly grasped the gear stick. She promptly shifted, at which the car lurched forward and lost contact with the pavement below. Soon, the pair found themselves hovering a few feet over the road, and Prudence leaned over the side and gasped at their present course. Althea shifted once more and the car roared into the sky. The momentum carried Prudence back into her seat and she laughed with delight.

"Sirius charmed this as teenagers," she said, looking at the delighted Prudence out of the corner of her eye. "I couldn't let him have all the fun with that flying motorbike."

"Did you ride it?"

"What? The motorbike?" she asked and Prudence nodded. Althea smiled slyly. "I might've."

Prudence's eyes widened as she looked ahead of her. "Oh my God," she mouthed.

"Not the boring Muggle Studies professor, am I?" she remarked and turned the wheel. The car banked slightly the right.

"Not in the least," Prudence replied and peered over the side of the car. "Could we fly over Juliana Turpin's house? I want her to see this!"

"A friend of yours from Hogwarts?"

Prudence shook her head. "An awful girl I know."

Althea turned the wheel and the car tilted to the left. "Unfortunately, no," she said as the countryside gave way to suburbs. "I'd like to keep my car."

The two continued their journey into London and Althea carefully landed the car at Number Three Morrigan Crescent. Tall, white stoned terraced houses stood stately before them. Althea looked up at the imposing, but elegant, Number Three—to the wrought iron balconies and flower boxes full of bright red flowers.

"I reckon she'll be safe if we leave her here," she said, opening the car door.

Prudence stepped out of the car and turned all around. "Who lives here?"

Althea shrugged. "Some Muggles probably," she lied and tapped her wand against the car. From her wand, the scarlet car slowly blended in with the street, pavement, and hedges next to it. "Can't be too careful," she said and winked at Prudence. "Right. Now, hold on tightly," she said, taking Prudence's hand. "We'll be in Diagon Alley shortly."

Althea inhaled and exhaled deeply as the tight rubber band feeling dissipated as Diagon Alley came into view. Prudence stepped forward and massaged her stomach.

"It is the fastest way," Althea said, gently coaxing Prudence out of the way of a large man carrying four stacked cauldrons. "I'd be sick if we used Floo."

"I'll be sick doing that," she replied and swallowed.

"You'll get used to it," she said, placing her hand upon Prudence's shoulder. "We'll wait a bit before we gorge ourselves on sundaes."

_So this is what it feels like_, she thought, removing her scarf as the pair walked forward among the crowd. She neatly tied the filmy scarf to her small white purse. Althea wondered if Mrs. Parker—during her visit to Diagon Alley—held the same amount of pride. _She was probably overwhelmed_, she thought, walking by the rats playing jump rope. Althea thought it strange the Parkers, a Muggle couple, did not request help from the Muggle Studies professor. At the time, they had no idea Althea was the professor, and it was often customary for Althea to provide her services for the clueless Muggles. She enjoyed welcoming the children in to the magical community, but her loneliness overwhelmed her as she watched the proud parents and children marvel at the shops and school supplies. Today was the first time, since she attended Hogwarts, that Althea did not walk Diagon Alley with that draining feeling of loneliness. She looked to Prudence and smiled.

"Did your parents enjoy Diagon Alley?" Althea asked. Prudence, who had stopped at the dress shop window, nodded. "They bought Oliver a hat," she said and shook her head. "He's convinced he's a wizard."

"Is he?"

Prudence shrugged. "He likes to float," she said, staring at the tasteful and elegant dresses. "It's my job to retrieve him."

"Ah," she replied, staring at Prudence's reflection in the window, "he'll be expecting his Hogwarts letter in a few years."

Prudence sighed longingly at the turquoise evening gown the middle-aged witch removed from the display. The silver embroidered hem shimmered with movement while the woman presented the dress with a twirl to Jane Mallory.

Althea lifted her sunglasses. "What is _she_ doing here?" she whispered, stepping forward.

Jane nodded with approval at the dress.

"Who?" Prudence asked.

Althea made a face. "Never you mind," she said and quickly turned toward Prudence. She forced a cheerful smile. "Right," she breathed and shook the burgundy pouch Prudence held, "why spend our day looking?"

Prudence grinned.

Althea looked to her watch. The mother of pearl dial read twelve-thirty.

"We'll meet at two-thirty," she said, looking up from her watch, "at the ice cream parlor. Is that enough time?"

Prudence arched her delicate eyebrow. "By myself?"

"Doesn't your mum?"

Prudence shook her head.

Althea frowned thoughtfully. "Oh right. Well, we should shop together, then?"

_I reckon I don't know what mums do_, she thought, twisting the beaded strap of her purse. _Is she old enough to shop alone_?

"Oh," Prudence said abruptly, tucking a curl behind her ear, "it's all right, really. I mean, you don't—did you have a bit of shopping to do?"

"A little, but if you would rather—"

"It doesn't matter," she said, rising and falling on the balls of her feet.

Althea smiled as she looked to her watch. "I'll meet you in two hours, then," she said and Prudence gasped with delight.

Prudence clapped happily and turned on her heels.

"But _stay_ in Diagon Alley!" she said as Prudence hastily retreated into the crowd. "Don't," she said loudly, but frowned—Prudence was gone, "don't go to Knockturn Alley."

Althea absently swung her purse at her side. She preferred the shops in the Wizarding community near Northfield to Diagon Alley, but Diagon Alley was the only place to buy Hogwarts supplies. Althea smiled to herself. Currently, she stood among the shops and street vendors, waiting for her daughter as she purchased her school things. _I never thought I'd have this chance_, she thought and tapped the side of a pewter cauldron. Slowly turning as she walked, she spotted two of her students outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. The boy and girl waved, and Althea waved back. Still smiling, she caught a glimpse of herself in the window's reflection. She looked from her sunglasses perched atop her head to her lilac gingham full-skirted sundress. She observed the mothers with their children and frowned. _I never looked very motherly, anyway_, she thought, turning away from her reflection. Althea rested the side of her face against the nearby parchment-covered column. _I've just enjoyed you so much_, she thought while a young mother walked by with her two small children behind her. _I can't imagine you gone_. Prudence would have to return to the Parkers at the weekend, and there was a good chance Prudence would not return to Hogwarts—despite Sirius's assurances to the contrary. _She's not ours_, she thought, picking at a loose corner of parchment, _no matter how much we fool ourselves_. Out of her periphery, she realized she had peeled at Sirius's wanted poster.

"Good God," she whispered, her eyes transfixed upon his photograph.

Matted black hair hung like a curtain over Sirius's gaunt, wax-like face. Althea swallowed uncomfortably at his dead eyes_. She knows him innocent_, she thought, and raised an eyebrow for she thought Sirius mouthed, 'Peter.' _We can't hope for more_.

Her head bent, Althea hastily turned to walk, but caught her breath as she almost bumped into a figure in blue.

"I'm so sorry," she said, looking up. "I didn't mean—"

There, before her, in fine periwinkle robes stood Jane Mallory. Petite and thin, her heart-shaped face did not betray a single wrinkle—Althea felt the urge to vomit. With her luminous blonde hair partially obscured by an extravagant periwinkle hat, Jane slowly smiled when she recognized Althea. _Damn_, she thought and clasped her hands behind her back to suppress the urge of hexing that talentless witch back to the Leaky Cauldron. Althea vividly remembered the last meeting between the former friends of convenience. She was barred from attending the funerals of James and Lily for it would create an unpleasant situation for all in attendance. After all, Althea was a tainted reminder of Sirius Black's supposed betrayal. Althea's absence did not go unnoticed by Jane who sought to confront Althea—not out of misguided bravery, but only to gloat at Althea's horrific misfortune. The confrontation escalated between the two young women until Althea held Jane's trembling wand to her chest and challenged Jane to kill her. Jane would not oblige (Althea was convinced Jane still did not know which end of a wand to use), and left Althea with the cruelest of parting words: _It's a blessing your daughter is dead, really. It saves you having to explain her father to her. Merlin, such a mistake_.

Althea inhaled deeply through her nostrils and forced a smile through her gritted teeth. "Hello."

_You bitch from hell_, she thought and swallowed the caustic fluid at the back of her throat.

Jane smiled pleasantly. "Althea, how good it is to see you," she said, stroking the top of her son's blond head.

Althea let out a spiteful laugh of surprise. "Really?"

"Merlin, you haven't changed," she said, appraising Althea's appearance. She lifted her eyes to the top of Althea's head. "Well, except for a _few_ things."

Althea narrowed her eyes at Jane. "What brings you to Diagon Alley?"

_And England. And I'd like you to leave_.

Jane looked from her son to their surroundings. "I thought it would be fun to show the children," she explained and sneered at the Owlery. "A bit rustic."

"Downright Dickensian," she replied flatly and took a step back. "I really should—"

"We thought we'd enjoy an extended holiday after the World Cup," she said and adjusted her hat so Althea could see her large diamond wedding band. "Dreadful what happened, don't you think?"

_Just mention Sirius, I dare you_.

"Tristan offered his services as Minister for—"

Althea fought the inclination to sigh.

"Instead, he was _whisked_ away to Belize," she continued and laughed lightly. "You know how it is," she began and eyed Althea's naked left hand—she gave a faint, self-satisfied smile, "or you wouldn't."

Althea imagined the strap of her purse to be Jane's neck and twisted it behind her back. "Oh fantastic," she feigned, her purse strap in one large knot. "I visited Remus in Belize four years ago. Gorgeous and warm, isn't it?"

Jane raised her eyebrows. "You stay in touch with the werewolf?" she asked, shooing her children away.

_You are so horribly vile_, she thought. Jane's children pushed and shoved their way into Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Althea blinked. "What werewolf?"

Jane frowned at her.

"Oh, _Remus_ is the werewolf!" she said and laughed to herself, rubbing her forehead. "I'm terrible. I seem to forget. He's not very hairy and he doesn't have pointy teeth," she explained and held up her fingers as fangs.

Althea sighed happily as Jane looked very displeased. _Serves you right_, she thought, _you deserve to be mocked_.

"So," Althea said brightly, rising and falling on the balls of her feet, "what do _you_ do?"

Jane adjusted her finely made robes. "Most of my time is devoted to the Witches Guild—"

Althea suppressed the urge to sigh once more.

"—Beauxbatons—we're benefactors—and my charity work," she finished.

Althea's stomach soured in recognition. _Beauxbatons? Bitch, you fired my best friend_, she thought, fighting the urge of slapping Jane in the middle of Diagon Alley. _A man, that if I remember, as a boy helped you in Charms more than once_.

"Oh Beauxbatons," she murmured. "Remus taught there, not too long ago, if I remember."

It was Jane who appeared uncomfortable. "Yes, well—"

"Pity he was sacked," she said and reveled in the slight pink in the apples of Jane's cheeks. "I'm sure, of course, you vouched for him. Gryffindor solidarity and all that."

Jane's perfectly glossed lips weakly upturned into a feigned smile.

Althea nodded slowly with mocking interest. "And, of course, your children."

"Of course," she replied, smiling. "They do take up most of my time."

"I can imagine," she muttered, feigning a smile.

"And what do you do?" she asked and sniffed, pulling upon her chiffon sleeve. "How do you spend your time…" she began and smirked as she looked around, "here?"

Jane's condescension licked like fire at Althea's insides. _Right_, she thought and inhaled deeply. _It's been thirteen years…maybe you've figured out which end of the wand to use_.

Althea exhaled. "When I'm not masquerading as the 13th Countess of Northfield, the 15th Vicountess of Northfield, and the 18th Baroness of, _of course_, _Northfield_, and attending to my _extensive_ commitments in _Muggle_ charity work, I'm a charity case myself as no one in the Wizarding world would hire me after that _nasty_ little incident. You remember it, don't you?"

Jane was ashen.

Althea stepped forward and whispered, "I might've _really_ enjoyed a shag with Sirius Black?"

Jane's thin nostrils flared.

"Well except, of course, for that patron of wayward Wizarding children, Albus Dumbledore," she concluded and mimicked Jane's self-serving laugh.

Althea noticed Jane's fingers flicker for her robe pocket. _Go ahead, you insipid tart, I'm gagging for a one-sided duel_.

"Speaking of which," she began, aware she leisurely stroked the grotesque photograph of the wanted Sirius (Sirius responded accordingly, at which Jane tightened her jaw), "I'm shagging him _again_, although sporadically," she said and mockingly frowned. "It's sort of difficult with dodging dementors and all…but you could only imagine what twelve years in a prison cell would do to such a man as Sirius. Well, you _should_ know, you dated him—"

Jane stepped forward and through clenched teeth spoke, "_We didn't date_—"

"Don't worry, he didn't call what we did _dating_ either—"

"_I didn't_—"

Althea inhaled deeply with satisfaction. "God, such a great fuck," she moaned, "and how could I not fall for a man such as him because, as you would like to remind all of us who didn't care, he was—in a word—_loaded_, and one day I will be his Dark Mistress and we will usher in a new age of darkness and waste upon the land."

Jane was thin-lipped. "How _dare_ you mock Lily's death!"

"I find your vapid condescension sickening."

"It's all a joke to you. All you've ever cared about was yourself!" she said in an angry but hushed tone, pointing her forefinger at Althea's nose. "You would stop at nothing to get what you wanted!"

Althea focused on Jane's finger. "I'm sorry that Tristan was such a poor consolation prize," she said. "I had no idea from your gloating after Lily's funeral."

"_Gloating_?" she repeated, her voice higher. "I stated the facts—"

"Of course, you forgot one very large fact," Althea interrupted. "While you enjoyed a charmed life in your perfect pure-blood marriage, Voldemort—"

Jane winced.

"—murdered Lily and a pair of Death Eaters thought to have a bit of fun with me."

Jane became stone-faced. "You don't deserve—"

"Did you visit St. Mungo's with the hope to find me there?" she remarked, her lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"You are vile."

Althea arched her eyebrow. "Time does soften one's feelings, don't you think?"

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to leave comments, reviews, and criticisms. What is in store for Althea? Four Knuts.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Althea rested the back of her head against the stall decorated with brightly colored scarves of orange, purple, and scarlet. Her trembling fingers caressed the finely embroidered fabric draped behind her shoulder. She was alone. She closed her eyes.

"At least she didn't call me, 'Black's bitch,'" she murmured and heaved a great breath.

_I did take it too far,_ _though_, she thought as her body slowly quieted itself. Jane's face—full of anger and disgust—appeared in her mind's eye. Althea winced at the feelings of anxiousness and guilt that bubbled in her gut. She felt as though she stood in her cottage and Jane uttered all those words Althea had endeavored to suppress. It was her fault Lily was dead.

"No," she whispered, her fingers clawing at the delicate fabric, "_don't_. Think of Prudence."

She inhaled deeply and forced her mind to imagine Prudence. Prudence's smiling and hopeful face slowly focused into view_. It doesn't matter what that horrible woman thinks of us_, she thought, relaxing her grip upon the scarf. _Prudence knows the truth and believes it_.

Calmed, Althea opened her eyes. She heard footsteps to her left and hastily lifted herself from the stall. A smirking Sirius was directing Prudence, dejected and mildly annoyed, toward Althea.

"You shouldn't be here!" she whispered heatedly.

"And young girls shouldn't be lurking about Borgin and Burkes," he replied and squeezed Prudence's shoulders.

Prudence folded her arms.

Althea furrowed her eyebrows. "Knockturn Alley?"

Prudence refused to look at Althea. "I wanted to see the shrunken heads."

Althea sighed. "I'm supposed to deliver you safely to your parents," she said, massaging her right temple. "You can't do that sort of thing."

"Indeed," Sirius agreed, letting go of Prudence's shoulders. "It's a dangerous place…full of the Dark Arts."

"The Dark Arts?" she repeated, her eyes wide. "I thought—"

Sirius nodded. "You understand, then?"

Prudence nodded. "I'm sorry," she said, looking from Sirius to Althea. "I'd heard stories—"

"And let them remain stories," Sirius said, "I'd hate to send you back in pieces. How would you receive top marks in all your classes?" He frowned thoughtfully. "Speaking of Hogwarts, where are your school things?"

"Oh," she said, tucking a curl behind her ear, "I haven't bought anything yet."

Sirius grabbed a purple scarf decorated with small silver beads and bells. "What about this?" he asked and shook the scarf.

Prudence wrinkled her nose.

"It is a bit ridiculous." He held up a saffron scarf. "Or this one?"

Prudence shook her head.

"This?" He held up a green.

Prudence made a face.

"Right," he sighed, unceremoniously tossing the scarves behind him. "You're exceedingly difficult," he said and winked at Althea. "What about a Goblin wrought tiara?"

Prudence giggled, "No."

"No?"

"No."

Sirius sighed, smoothing the black hair away from his eyes. "I reckon I'm useless," he said and teasingly shook his head.

"You're not completely useless," Althea said, interlocking her arm with his. "I could use some help shopping."

Sirius placed his hand atop Althea's arm. "But what about our dear Prudence?"

Althea pretended to size up Prudence. "I believe she's learned her lesson," she said, and Prudence beamed. "Shrunken heads are ghastly things."

"_Still_," Sirius said, playfully narrowing his eyes. "The Trace—"

"The Trace?" Althea gasped.

Sirius tilted his head to the side. "We'll know immediately if she misbehaves."

"Oh please don't," Prudence begged, rising on the balls of her feet. "I won't go in Spine and Dagger—"

Sirius clicked his teeth. "Know the names of the shops, do you?"

Prudence winced, looking about at the children going in and out of the booths. "I'll be good, I promise."

Sirius shook his head and held his wand before him. "Sorry."

Prudence huffed with resignation and pouted.

Sirius—with laudable effort to keep his smile at bay—cleared his throat and, in a grave voice, mumbled gibberish, giving a single tap to the top of Prudence's head. "Excellent."

"I didn't feel anything."

"You're not supposed to," he said and nodded solemnly.

"Remember," Althea said with a small smile, "two-thirty."

Prudence nodded.

"And under no circumstances are you to visit Knockturn Alley," Sirius warned in a mild teasing tone. "We'll know."

"I won't," she insisted, absently kicking her heel against the ground.

Althea watched Prudence's figure weave through the street until she lost her in a group of Hogwarts students.

"D'you reckon I could get her to eat a Cockroach Cluster?"

Althea elbowed him. "You'll do no such thing," she said as the crowd milled about before them. "It'll only work once, you know."

Sirius shrugged. "Diagon Alley is once a year."

Althea smiled. "And you couldn't resist," she said, resting her head upon his shoulder.

"No," he murmured and kissed her forehead.

"You'd risk capture to see that Prudence buys her Hogwarts things?"

Sirius did not answer. Instead, he slipped his arm around her waist and held her close to him as the two walked.

"You don't have to prove to me—"

"Prove what?" he asked and kissed her cheek.

Althea stopped and took Sirius's thin hands. "Thank you," she said and tenderly pressed them in hers.

Sirius let go of her hands. He pulled her by the small of her back closer to him. "I never thought…" he began and rested his forehead against hers.

Althea closed her eyes and lifted her parted lips to his.

"Althea?" Remus said, his voice mildly stern.

Althea paused and giggled lowly at the sound of Remus's voice.

"You haven't told him?" she whispered, opening her eyes.

"No."

Althea turned to greet Remus—his expression one of utter bemusement.

"Oh, hello," she said and coughed to stifle the giggle swelling inside her. "I'm sorry that I haven't written you—"

Remus disregarded pleasantries and held out his hand for Sirius. "Remus Lupin," he said, his voice suspicious and faintly angry.

Sirius took Remus's hand. "Sirius Black," he said lowly with a crooked smile.

Remus, his eyes wide, stepped back. "What the hell?"

Althea gave in to her snickering.

"He was about to scold you," Sirius laughed, gliding his fingers up and down Althea's bare arms. "Well done, Moony. Glad to see where your loyalties lie."

Remus did not look pleased. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, and ran his fingers through his mousy brown hair. "Of all the completely stupid things you've ever done—"

"Relax," Sirius said, holding up his hands.

Remus cast him a dark look.

"Moony—"

Remus hastily surveyed the crowd as he stepped forward. "Why are you here?" he whispered through gritted teeth.

Sirius shrugged. "Shopping."

"No, in this bloody country, you idiot!"

Sirius sighed. "It's complicated."

Sirius grabbed Remus by the arm and led him away from Althea to a secluded spot under the awning of the cosmetics shop. Sirius looked around as he spoke quietly to Remus. Remus gulped and glanced back at Althea as Sirius continued to speak. Sirius, noticing, quickly turned Remus away so their backs were to Althea. Althea raised an eyebrow. _We still have our secrets, don't we_? The two men returned with Remus smiling pleasantly.

"Right," Sirius sighed and clapped Remus on the shoulder, "ice cream?"

* * *

"So…Gran knows, then?" Remus asked, and with his spoon scooped up a substantial bite of ice cream.

Althea nodded. "Discovered in Bermuda."

Remus shivered. "Ruined your holiday."

"She did her best to kill me," Sirius said, tilting his chair upon its hind legs as he sat across from Remus. His lips transformed into a twisted smile as he added, "Obviously confused me with my grandfather."

Remus frowned, placing the large spoonful of chocolate ice cream in the glass dish. "What?"

Althea leaned forward. "Gran," she began, her voice wavering from suppressed laughter, "_shagged _Sirius's grandfather—"

Remus produced a guttural noise.

"—_and_ had his bastard son."

Remus paled. "A son?"

Althea nodded deliberately. "George."

"_No_."

"Yeah, mate."

Remus reclined against his chair and smoothed the hair away from his face. "I believe it," he said, frowning slightly. "She always had a special place in her heart for you." Remus smiled wryly at Althea. "And who knew it was hereditary?" Remus covered his face with his hand and shook with laughter. "It all makes sense now."

"Are you all right, Moony?" Sirius asked.

Remus lowered his hand. "I'm perfect," he said, smiling at the couple. "All those damn lectures."

Sirius nodded. "Still spoke highly of my loving grandfather after all these years," he said, folding his arms.

Remus's head jerked back. "No—"

"Yeah," Sirius laughed. "It is not Arcturus's fault. He was poisoned by his family," he said in his best impersonation of Gran. "Never gave me that same courtesy."

"Of course, not," he said.

Sirius laughed lowly. "Love, do you think Gran and my grand—"

"You'll never guess who I met in Diagon Alley today," she said over Sirius. She was not about to have her ice cream sundae ruined by Sirius's musings on her grandmother's sex life.

Sirius shrugged.

"Jane."

Sirius wrinkled his nose.

Remus pulled a face as he swallowed his ice cream.

"Indeed," Althea said. "She was downright vile."

"And you let her walk away unharmed?" Remus asked.

"I don't hex defenseless creatures."

Sirius laughed loudly.

"Misplaced charity," Remus muttered.

Althea shrugged. "If I see her once every twelve years, I'll be happy," she said, picking up her spoon. "Had nothing but the finest words to say about our dear Sirius."

"Jealousy," Sirius sighed. "I am, after all, the most eligible bachelor in all of Wizarding Britain with my unrivaled fortune and extensive property."

"Probably still angry at the lifelong ban from Madam Puddifoot's," Remus said, smirking to himself as he dipped his spoon into his ice cream.

With a large huff, Prudence heaved a towering armful of books upon the table, ratting their bowls and spoons. She swept the spiral black tendrils from her eyes and sighed.

"I've got it all, I think?" she said, eyeing the books. "You'd think they'd place a charm to lighten them—Professor Lupin!"

Remus was unnaturally pale.

"Found him lurking about Gambol and Japes," Sirius said, "up to no good."

"I hope you aren't cross with us?" Althea asked as Remus's expression became quite peculiar—as if about to vomit. "Is it okay he joins us?"

Prudence looked to Remus and nodded. "I don't mind," she said and hooked a curl behind her ear. "It's nice to see you again, Sir."

Sirius snorted and Althea violently nudged him.

"Likewise," Remus replied hoarsely.

Sirius leaned over Althea and poked at Prudence's haul. "Rather slim," he muttered, running is forefinger down the stack of books.

"But I bought—"

Althea smiled. "I think he intended for you to spend it."

"But there's so much left!" she said, wide-eyed. "I can't—"

"Go ahead and spend it," Sirius said and smiled at Prudence. "It's yours."

"I've known him long enough to know that he doesn't understand the word no," she said and Sirius nodded. "I promise you that Professor Lupin will be here when you return," Althea said and smiled pleasantly at Remus.

Remus gave a slight nod.

Prudence bit her bottom lip and looked to the burgundy purse atop the stack. "I could buy something for Oliver's birthday," she said and grasped the purse. "Something to replace that stupid hat."

Althea watched Prudence leave the ice cream shop. "Don't buy him Dungbombs," she whispered, wrinkling her forehead.

"I stand corrected," Remus said and Althea shifted to face him. "_This _is the stupidest thing you've _ever _done." He shook his head—his mouth contorted to utter words but he could not speak.

"Blame the Death Eaters at the World Cup," Sirius said.

"_You_ attended the World Cup?" Remus asked, sitting forward. "Do you realize—"

"No, I didn't attend," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Althea did, though."

Remus, open mouthed, stared at Althea. "You didn't—"

"Kidnap her? No," she replied, picking up Prudence's Charms Grade Two textbook. "I learned my lesson long ago…. She witnessed the debacle at the World Cup and Gran took her to Northfield. She's been with us ever since."

"And the Parkers?"

"Are okay with it," she said.

Remus rubbed the side of his face. "And she knows it's you, then?"

Sirius nodded.

Remus developed a strange look. "I won't even ask."

Althea opened the book and thumbed through the crisp pages. "Whenever I had the chance, I'd perform these charms for my father," she said, smiling sadly at the demonstration of a Dancing Charm. "He always looked so pleased."

Sirius peered over Althea's arm. "My parents could've cared less how I did," he said, turning the page for Althea. "These sorts of spells were expected…with the first attempt, of course."

Althea sneered. "No wonder you were a bully."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "I'm not proud of it," he said and grabbed for Prudence's Transfiguration book. "Better at Charms or Transfiguration?"

"Charms," Althea said, closing the book.

"Nah, Transfiguration," he replied and tapped the page. "I'll teach her this tonight. God, will McGonagall be impressed. Ten points to Gryffindor."

"We hope," she sighed and furrowed her eyebrows. "The Parkers don't want Prudence to return to Hogwarts—"

"_What_?" Remus interrupted. "It can't be."

"Yeah, it is, mate," he replied and closed the book.

Remus shook his head as he muttered, "No, no, they can't do this."

"Well—" Sirius began but Althea stepped on his foot to quiet him.

"I'll visit them—"

"Visit them at the full moon," Sirius muttered.

Althea cast Sirius a warning look.

"God, if it's because of what I am," he said and covered his mouth.

Althea placed her hand upon Remus's hand—she felt it faintly trembling. "It isn't because of you," she said and tenderly squeezed his hand. "We don't know why."

"I will talk with them," Remus said, looking from Althea to Sirius. "You have my word."

"Thanks, Moony," Sirius said, resting his arm on the back of Althea's chair. "You were her teacher, they'll listen to you…more so than her mad parents."

* * *

Prudence returned to the ice cream parlor with three wrapped packages, more books, charmed drawing paper, two sketchbooks, and one large box.

"I still have loads left," she said, placing the large box upon the floor. "It never empties!"

Althea smiled for Sirius had charmed the purse to be a direct link to her vault. _Even your cleverness amazes me_, she thought as Prudence sat across from Althea.

"Keep it," Althea said as Prudence frowned at Sirius's absence. "He'll return soon, I promise."

Prudence looked upon her things. "I feel as though I've spent his entire fortune."

"That's impossible," she said and nodded toward the strawberry sundae before Prudence. "Now eat your ice cream."

"Did you enjoy your summer?" Prudence asked and lifted a large spoonful of ice cream to her lips.

Remus nodded. "I traveled a bit—"

Prudence gasped happily.

"Nothing too exotic, though."

"Oh."

"Enjoy any dancing?" Althea teased.

Remus frowned. "Dancing?"

Althea smirked. "I guess it wasn't, then?" she murmured and concentrated on the half empty sundae before her to keep from laughing. "Enjoy your time with Afina?"

"My what? Oh," he replied and laughed quietly. "I did, actually." He scratched his unshaven chin. "Has she left?"

Althea shook her head. "No," she said, and heard Sirius's deliberate footsteps behind her. She smiled when Sirius stopped behind her. "And where have you been?" she asked and winked at Prudence.

"Hello, lovely," he murmured and kissed Althea's cheek.

He placed a bouquet of neatly tied red roses in her lap. Althea's fingers touched the richly colored velvet petals—she blushed. She sniffed the fragrant flowers and murmured her thanks.

"Your rose gardens are safe," he said with a satisfied look.

"They're lovely!" Prudence said, leaning over the table to look at them.

Althea presented the flowers to Prudence for inspection. Prudence smelt them and smiled.

"Oh, they smell so lovely, too!"

Sirius quickly turned to hide something from Prudence.

Prudence raised her eyebrow as he kept his hands behind his back.

He playfully frowned. "This just won't do," he said, shaking his head at Prudence's things.

"What? Why?" she asked, looking a little panicked. "I tried to spend it!"

He grinned, lifting a silver cage with a large pink bow upon the table. Prudence gasped and enthusiastically peered inside—her books and other items jostled upon the table. Sitting upon the perch was a small fluffy brown owl with white spots. It was adorable. Althea cringed at Sirius's extravagant gift.

Remus looked toward the ceiling and let a small smile escape.

"You needed an owl," Sirius said, tugging at the satin bow.

"It's mine?" she breathed, her forefinger curled around the silver bar.

"Of course!" he laughed.

"I don't think they'll bend the rules," Althea said, partially covering her face with her fingers. "Think of Violet."

Sirius shrugged. "Just say it's Althea's owl," he said. "What do you think?"

Prudence, her eyes transfixed upon her new pet, slowly smiled. "It's perfect," she said and turned her face up at him. "Thank you."

Sirius smiled crookedly. "Right," he breathed.

Althea tugged upon his shirtsleeve. "Eat your ice cream."

Sirius sighed happily and sat next to Althea. He leaned his chair back on his hind legs, pleased with himself. _You will have that winged horse_, she thought as Prudence cooed at the fluffy owl. Althea smiled at Sirius, who coached Prudence in proper owl etiquette. However, she could not suppress the nagging feeling in her stomach—her smile faded. _You deserve to be a proper father_, she thought as the tiny owl flapped her wings. Prudence calmed him. He was gentle. He was that young man thirteen years ago who sang softly to the pregnant Althea. _She'll return to them at the weekend and how will you feel then, my love_?

Prudence placed the cage on the floor next to her. "Does it have a name?"

"You can name her," he said. "I think she'll get on well with Violet, too. Good tempered."

Remus rubbed the side of his face and laughed quietly at Sirius.

Sirius sat forward. "Moony's a voracious ice cream eater."

Prudence wrinkled her nose. "Moony?"

Sirius gestured with his eyes toward Remus.

Prudence gasped. "Oh, that is dreadful!"

Remus shrugged. "It was a childhood nickname," he said, slowly twirling his spoon in the empty bowl.

"Did you have a nickname?"

"Padfoot," he answered proudly.

Prudence made a face and Althea found it difficult not to snicker.

"I liked it," Sirius said, folding his arms. "Do you have a nickname?"

Prudence shook her head. "My brother calls me, 'Dunce,'" she said and stuck out her tongue. "Just to be awful."

"That's right foul," he said and all agreed. "I have to think of something better." Sirius screwed his eyes up in thought. "I've got it, 'Pip.'"

Prudence wrinkled her nose. "Pip?"

"Yeah, Pip."

Remus laughed. "Padfoot, Pip, and—"

Althea kicked Remus' shin underneath the table.

"And you?"

Both men looked upon Althea, smirking.

"We called her, 'Morrigan,'" Sirius said, his expression one of mock apprehension. "She was too frightening to have a nickname."

"_No_," Prudence breathed.

"She would hex and curse me everyday—_everyday_," he said, fighting a smile. "A horrible bully."

"I don't believe you," she said, narrowing her eyes.

Sirius dropped his spoon in mock amazement. "What? She was merciless in her taunting."

"Merciless," Remus agreed.

Prudence leaned forward. "I read the detention cards."

"See," Sirius said, sitting up, "evidence."

"Likely," she scoffed.

"Right, as if your behavior could be blameless," Althea said and looked slyly at Sirius. "Those were detention cards _with me_, just imagine the piles and stacks of detention cards he had with his friends."

"Not something Prudence should aspire to," Sirius muttered.

"I'll make an effort to avoid detention," she said, and stuck out her tongue, "especially with Snape."

"Such a slimy git—"

"There will be no disparaging talk," Althea warned and Sirius laughed loudly. "He's a colleague—"

Remus coughed to disguise his laughter.

"Grow up," she said, fighting a smile.

Prudence giggled.

"He is awful, isn't he?" Sirius remarked.

"Yeah."

"So greasy—"

"Yeah."

"—and slimy—"

"Yeah."

"—and boring—"

"_Yeah_."

"—a terrible teacher—"

"The worst."

"_Professor Lupin_, what was it we'd call him?"

"What didn't we?" Remus remarked. "Snivellus, for one."

"Ah ha! Snivellus!" Sirius said with a mischievous grin. "Always sticking that large nose of his in our business. Scuttling about like vermin—"

"Sirius, no," Althea warned.

"Oh, and Snivelly," Sirius said and laughed. "He _really_ hated that one."

Prudence giggled.

"_Don't_ call Professor Snape any of those," Althea said.

"Not to him," Sirius said.

"Definitely not to him," Remus said.

"But with your friends—"

"No," Althea said, her eyes widening slightly.

"Oh, don't get all soft on Snivelly," Sirius said with a placating smile. "He might be a _colleague_, but he's a right foul git…especially to our Pip."

"I wasn't about to defend him," she said, folding her arms. "It's just those names are _very specific to their creators_."

Remus nodded with understanding. "I think it's best you create your own names for him," he said and frowned faintly. "Damn."

"What?"

"Don't turn around."

Althea felt sick. "Ministry?" she said barely audible.

"No, Malfoy."

Sirius grasped Althea's hand under the table as Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy passed their table. Her breathing shallow, and her heart pounding violently against her chest, she attempted to maintain a pleasant smile for Prudence.

"What class are you most looking forward to this year?" she asked, looking out of the corner of her eye at the Malfoys whispering.

Althea's eye met Narcissa.

"Charms, I think," Prudence said and lifted a spoonful of ice cream to her lips.

"Well, you're very good a Charms," Remus said, "and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Really?" Sirius breathed, tightening his grip upon Althea's hand.

Narcissa raised her eyebrow at the four. Althea stiffened.

Prudence nodded.

"Very talented," Althea said, eyeing warily the Malfoys as the walked past.

Lucius let fall four Knuts from his hand. The small bronze coins bounced against the floor and came to settle near Prudence. Althea grabbed the table—her mind and stomach reeled with humiliation.

"No," she said weakly as Prudence bent to pick up the coins.

"Don't bother," Remus said, reaching for Prudence's hand as she stood.

"He lost them," she said, shaking off his hand.

"Prudence, sit down," Sirius said, rising from his chair.

Prudence did not listen and scooped up the coins.

"Fuck," Althea whispered as Prudence walked toward the leaving Malfoys.

"Sir?" Prudence said, a few feet from them. "Sir, I believe you dropped these?" she said, holding out her hand.

Lucius turned—his expression slightly horrified. Althea stood with her hand in her wand pocket.

Prudence thrust her arm toward him. "These are yours," she said as Althea rested her hand upon Prudence's shoulder. "Take them, please."

Narcissa smiled cruelly.

Lucius sneered as if he had tasted something quite foul. "No—"

"Take the money," Althea said, nodding toward Prudence's hand.

"I will not take the charity of some upstart Muckblood," he replied and looked over Prudence's head. "The half-breed," he murmured and smirked, "Snape was correct."

"Come on," Althea said, pushing Prudence away from the Malfoys. "Let's collect our things and—"

"That Dumbledore would let such filth into Hogwarts—half-breeds, the Muckblooded tarts that love them, and Mud—"

Suddenly, Prudence let out a rather girlish growl and, with all of her might, kicked Lucius Malfoy's shin.

Lucius yelped.

"How dare you?" Prudence yelled and threw the Knuts toward the door.

Althea felt a fleeting pride until Lucius, his face red, raised his wand to strike. Althea leapt in front of Prudence.

"Filthy little—"

Lucius's eyes widened for Sirius tightly grasped his wand arm. Without saying a word, Sirius slowly forced Lucius's wand arm to his side. Narcissa paled. Her eyes flickered from Sirius to Althea.

"Go!" Althea whispered to Prudence. "Collect your things!"

Prudence hesitated.

"Do it now!"

Remus softly spoke to Prudence and guided her toward the table.

"Blood traitor," Lucius sneered as Sirius let go of his arm.

Sirius eyed the livid Malfoy with an air of boredom. "After thirteen years, is that the _best_ you can do?"

"You reek of that Muckblood."

Sirius leaned close to Lucius. "And wouldn't you love to taste her?" he whispered and laughed quietly, knowingly as Narcissa went pink. "Always want what I have," he said as he pulled away.

Narcissa placed her thin hand upon Lucius's arm. "We should leave," she said, stroking his arm. "Let them have their happy family outing."

Lucius looked toward Prudence. "Yes, let's," he said and smirked at Sirius. "Pity you won't remember them."

Sirius, his demeanor cool, spoke, "Your friends shout for you in Azkaban."

Lucius swallowed. "Kiss them goodbye, Black."

"Go to hell," he sneered.

Once the Malfoys left, Althea grasped Sirius' shirt. "They're going to alert the Ministry!"

Sirius rested his hands upon her shoulders. "It will be all right."

"No, it won't," she said, holding the fabric between her fingers. "We're in Diagon Alley and—"

"No one saw!" he growled and looked toward Prudence. "Listen to me, I'll take Prudence and go—"

"No!"

"I know a safe place—don't argue," he said quickly. "I'll send for you. Go to Northfield—anywhere—"

"We're ready," Remus said and nodded to Sirius. "I've taken care of our little problem," he added and gestured toward the only other table occupied.

The teenage couple happily chatted away as they ate their ice cream.

"Excellent," Sirius breathed and kissed Althea. "I promise you, she'll be safe."

Althea inhaled a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry," Prudence said, her lower lip trembling. "I shouldn't have—I should apologize—"

"No," Sirius said and cupped her face with his hands, "you were perfect."

"But—"

"I'm _very_ proud of you," he said and sniffed. "Here, take my arm."

Prudence did as she was told, and with a _pop_, the two were gone.

"I'll take her things to Northfield," Remus said, placing his hand upon the small of her back.

Althea nodded.

"I was wrong about him," he said quietly. "He won't let anything happen to her."

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! I hope you're enjoying it so far. Please feel free to leave criticisms, comments, and reviews. What is in store for Althea? A bit of polo.


	13. Chapter 13

******Chapter 13**

Althea forcefully stepped upon the brake and placed her car in park—a plume of beige dust billowed behind her car. Thankfully, her entrance upon the grounds of the polo match did not scare any of the horses. She quickly left the car and walked, with head bent, toward the large tent and the groups of Muggles reclining about on their blankets and chairs too drunk or too absorbed in their conversations to notice Althea's approach. She was grateful.

Sophie sat upon a white plastic chaise—apart from the others—her face slightly obscured by the wide brim of her white hat and her oversized brown sunglasses. She looked rather bored by the match before her and casually sipped her champagne.

"You never go to these dreadful things," Sophie said, looking at the match before her.

"I thought I should today," Althea said, sitting upon the chaise next to Sophie. "How is George?"

Sophie laughed lowly as she held the glass to her lips. "Avoiding Lady M?" she remarked and took a sip. "What did you do…or didn't do?"

"I—" she began, but saw a group of wizards in the distance, "damn."

"What?" Sophie asked and looked in the direction of Althea's gaze. "Good Lord, what _are _they wearing?"

Althea frowned slightly at the four men in robes. "You'd think with Muggles…" she muttered and forced a smile at Sophie. "Do you think?"

Sophie smiled. "Time to play along?"

Althea nodded. "I'll find us another bottle."

Althea stood just inside the tent as the four men approached Sophie. She raised an eyebrow at the group as the attendant handed her a bottle of champagne. Althea recognized one of the men—Kingsley Shacklebolt—a man she remembered from Hogwarts and a few instances in St. Mungo's. He was a few years older than her, but she remembered James and Sirius speaking of Kingsley with great respect for he was a very clever and capable Auror. Dressed in an outfit out of place for late summer and a Muggle gathering, he approached Sophie.

Althea gulped. "Oh, this isn't good," she murmured.

Althea nervously peeled at the label of the chilled champagne. The regret of their ruse began to sink in—she prayed Sirius and Prudence were safe. _We're so reckless_, she thought as the men stopped before Sophie. _We could've—we're not fit to be her parents_.

"Althea Morrigan!" one of the men shouted.

Sophie lowered her sunglasses. "You mean, the Countess? The Countess Northfield?"

The four wizards looked at one another, confused. Althea bit her lip to hide her smiling as she returned to Sophie. _You're bloody brilliant_, she thought as she approached the group. Kingsley noticed her approach—a look of recognition upon his face—and Althea smiled pleasantly.

"Her Ladyship should return shortly. It becomes very hot in the sun, you know," she said and smiled. She looked the four men up and down. "Well, by the way you're dressed," she said, slipping the large brown sunglasses over her eyes, "you should know."

"Here, darling," Althea said as she held up the bottle of champagne.

"Fantastic," Sophie murmured and held up her glass. "Thank you, darling," she added as Althea poured the fizzy liquid into her glass.

Althea feigned surprise upon seeing the four Ministry Officials. "Oh, hello," she said, sitting down upon the plastic chaise. "Come to watch a bit of polo?" she remarked and took a sip of champagne.

The two younger Aurors observed the polo match, and were preoccupied by their very Muggle surroundings. Althea would use their bemusement to her advantage.

The man with frizzy hair spoke, "Are you Althea Morrigan?"

"_Lady _Northfield," Sophie reminded.

"Sophie, darling, really," Althea said and Sophie sneered at the men. "Yes, I am," she replied and raised an eyebrow. "How do you do?"

"Auror Jones, ma'am," he said and curtly nodded. "Where were you earlier this afternoon?"

"She was here, with me," Sophie answered. "We've been here all day, unfortunately."

"Is this true?" Kinglsey asked. "You didn't leave for any period of time?"

"Just to get another bottle of champagne," she said, hoisting the bottle.

Kinglsey chewed the inside of his cheek, scrutinizing Althea. Althea smiled pleasantly.

"What is this about?" Althea asked and pretended to be interested in the match before her. "Be quick about it, gentleman, the Muggles will start to notice."

"We have multiple eye witnesses who place you with Sirius Black in Diagon Alley," Jones said.

Althea laughed. "What?"

"Who's she?" Sophie asked, wrinkling her nose. "And why diagonally? Is it a he, then? I could see that, _maybe_—"

"Never you mind," Althea said, patting Sophie's hand. She looked condescendingly at the Ministry Officials. "Do you _really_ believe Sirius Black would stroll down the center of Diagon Alley arm in arm with me?" she remarked and shook her head laughingly. "The _Muggle Studies _professor?"

"Muggle Studies?" murmured the man with the short blond beard.

"Yes, I'm professor at Hogwarts," she said and took a sip of champagne. "It's absolutely ridiculous! Not to mention, the _Prophet _places his whereabouts as Las Vegas, Nevada."

"Oh," Sophie said and inhaled a knowing breath, "probably shagging some showgirl."

"Exactly," Althea nodded. "If I were escaped from Azkaban and haven't had it in twelve years, I know where I'd be—and I wouldn't be pulling the Muggle Studies professor…I'd go for the real thing, if you know what I mean."

"Hedonistic, savage..." Sophie said and slowly fanned herself lost in her erotic reverie. "_Glorious_."

The wizard with the blond beard coughed uncomfortably.

Althea smirked. "You're very much mistaken," she said, shading her eyes as she looked upon the men. "I would never—look out!"

Suddenly, George's horse reared up on its hind legs. The four men scattered.

"Sorry! Sorry!" George shouted as he patted his horse's neck. "All right, there?"

Althea bit her bottom lip to stifle her laughter as the men scrambled to their feet. She smiled at George. George winked.

"Bloody—"

"If I knew where he was," Althea interrupted, brushing the grass and dirt off Jones's cloak, "I would definitely help you." She vigorously patted the wizard's hat. "Definitely, definitely tell you," she added and handed the deformed hat back to the man.

"Thank you," he muttered, frowning.

Althea nodded. "I place a high importance upon duty."

"Althea, this isn't a joke," Kingsley said.

"I'm keenly aware it isn't a joke," she said, smoothing the skirt of her dress. "That is a damning accusation to make, and frankly, I'm offended. Haven't you looked at my Ministry file?"

"File?" Jones murmured.

"Yes, _file_," she said, looking at Kingsley.

Kingsley squinted as he attempted to remember.

"D'you _really _think that I would help him?" she asked. "Look in my file again, Mr. Shackbolt, you'll see right quick I won't be apt to defend him."

"I see," Kingsley murmured, nodding solemnly. "Jones, Thompson—the eye witnesses had to have been mistaken."

"Or would like to tarnish my good name," she replied, folding her arms.

"We're very sorry, but we do have to investigate every lead," Kingsley said. "You do understand?"

"Of course," she sighed.

"Sorry to have bothered you," Jones said and nodded to the other men. "Carry on."

Althea fought the urge to roll her eyes. _Bloody Malfoy_, she thought, roughly sitting upon the chaise. _Torturing my Sirius at sixteen wasn't enough for you, was it_? Althea grasped the arm of the chaise, imagining it was Malfoy's neck. How many knew of Sirius's innocence, but let him rot there? One would think having such a known blood traitor in their circles to be falsely identified as a fervent supporter of their cause to be a grave embarrassment. However, it was unsurprising that no reformed Death Eater ever spoke up for Sirius because that would be admission of guilt and it was best to save one's own skin. Azkaban was for his own good, really. He would have time to dwell upon his erroneous ideals and his misplaced loyalty.

Once the men left, Althea spoke, "Thank you."

"Of course," she said, pouring Althea another glass of champagne. "What have you done this time?"

"Nothing," she murmured, "nothing at all."

Sophie, with a faint knowing smirk, lifted her glass to her lips. "God, he was shaggable, wasn't he?" she said and took a sip of champagne.

"Who? Those men?"

"No, Sirius Black," she said, looking ahead of her. "You were a lucky bastard."

"Not really—"

"Gorgeous," she said and turned toward Althea. "Do you remember, that club we'd go to?"

"Which one?"

Sophie's eyes widened with surprise. "The Somatic, the summer of 1980?"

Althea narrowed her eyes. "I vaguely recall it."

"_Vaguely_? The entire set went! It was an event when you came along," she said and poked Althea's forearm with her forefinger. Sophie looked over Althea's shoulder and smiled—her look distant. "I'll never forget the moment I saw him…when he walked by our set. He could've had any one of us. "

"But he chose me," she muttered, taking a sip of champagne.

"And we were incredibly jealous, too," Sophie said, pouring herself another glass. "You were off to the couches and we didn't see you for the entire night. We goaded that foul Marianne into checking up on you. All she saw was his tight bare bum bobbing up and down—"

"All of you didn't look?"

"We couldn't help it. Had a drink in your honor," she said and raised her glass to Althea. "You were our bloody hero after that. None of us had the guts to get what we wanted."

"Unfortunately, I paid dearly for it."

Sophie made a disapproving noise. "I will not have a repeat of October 1982," she said, placing her glass upon the small table between them.

"A what?"

"You _believe _you told me about magic when Freddie was eight, but it was much earlier, my dear friend."

Althea nervously placed her glass upon the table. _One year_.

"It was after the fancy dress party on Halloween," she said and furrowed her brow. "I'd never seen you so drunk—never."

Althea lowered her head. "I wasn't—"

"You told me everything that happened," she said. "I didn't believe you until you levitated the wine bottle toward us and poured me a glass."

Althea sighed heavily.

Sophie grasped Althea's hand. "I can't imagine the burden you carried," she said and squeezed Althea's hand. "When you spoke of your daughter—"

Althea briefly felt her chest collapse upon itself.

"—I felt the pain radiate from you. If there was anyone who would help you drink yourself into oblivion, it would be me."

Althea smiled sadly. "Thank you, I guess."

"Your daughter is beautiful."

Althea lifted her head—her mouth parted.

"Prudence," she said with a small smile. "I didn't want to upset you at Granny's party, but she looks as you did when you were twelve." She squeezed Althea's hand once more. "Don't worry. I haven't told a soul and I never will…I promise you."

"Thank you," she said, folding her trembling hands in her lap. "It's that obvious?"

Sophie shrugged—her thumb gliding across the rim of the glass. "Does she know, then?"

"No, it would wreck her," she said, vigorously shaking her head. "Imagine learning that your mum is _the _Lady Althea Morrigan, who owns four homes and numerous properties here and abroad, and then spent the years after your birth traveling from nightclub to nightclub and in and out of every eligible man's bed when she should've taken care of you."

"Not _every _eligible man…you did have your standards."

"She'll think I didn't want her," she said, chipping at her pink nail polish, "which is the farthest thing from the truth." Althea furrowed her eyebrows as she watched a small ant crawl across the white armrest. "She's the best thing I've ever done."

"Freddie thinks so as well," Sophie replied and smiled impishly. "I reckon James should purchase one of those owls so they could write to one another."

"She would enjoy that," she replied, the corners of her mouth upturned into a smile. "Prudence received her owl today—a fluffy thing, but she loves it."

"Freddie wouldn't want fluffy."

"Of course," she said, "and it doesn't have to be an owl. Diagon Alley has Eeylops Owl Emporium, but—"

"Diagon Alley?" Sophie asked quickly.

"Yes, an owl shop—"

"_Diagon Alley_?" Sophie repeated, her sunglasses slipping down the bridge of her thin nose—her piercing blue eyes met Althea. "_The _Diagon Alley?"

"Yes," she said slowly, "Diagon Alley."

"Where those men—"

What felt like ice water washed over Althea's insides. Althea faintly nodded.

Sophie lowered her sunglasses and gave her friend a wary look. "He's not in that place anymore, is he?"

"Oh God, I told you everything, didn't I?" she said, massaging her right temple.

Sophie nodded. "It was a great shock to learn he hadn't died," she said, curling her legs up upon the chaise, "and an even greater shock to learn he was in prison…. I reckon I'd want to remember him, too, the way it was." A crease formed between her blonde eyebrows. "What he did…I still have difficulty—how did you—"

"I was forced to—"

"Lady M wouldn't let you believe otherwise," she said and lifted the bottle of champagne. "So…he was released?"

"He escaped—"

Sophie's eyes widened. "Escaped?"

"You have nothing to fear, I swear."

"Are you sure?" she asked, she had forgotten to pour more champagne. "Althea, darling—"

"It's complicated, but—"

"I'd like to hear it," Sophie said, resting the bottle on the table.

"I don't think—"

"You're my dearest friend, Althea. I want you to confide in me," she said, leaning closer. "You don't have to hide what you are from me. I'm not like—like _them_," she said and pointed to a group of women at the tent. "I care for you and I always have. I know I'm just a Muggle—"

"You're not—"

"Who helped me when Jolyon died?" she said over Althea. "You. I want to help you."

"Sophie…"

"Tell me," she said, taking Althea's hand. "I have that right, don't I? If I am in danger—"

"You're not in danger," she said, looking to their clasped hands. "He would never hurt any of us."

"How can you be sure?" she asked and paused before she added, "Why do you defend him so?"

Althea swallowed.

"I know what he did—"

"No," she said hoarsely. "None of it was true…at least now."

"What?" she breathed. "Althea, I remember you, sobbing upon the floor of my flat with a story so preposterous it took an act of magic for me to believe—"

"I know, I know," she whispered, "but they were wrong. I was wrong."

In her Muggle circle, the charming Sirius Black, who had been the companion of Althea and the bane of Gran's existence, went missing and was presumed to have perished at the outskirts of some remote village in some remote Asian country upon some secretive assignment for a newspaper, or a magazine, or the government. When mentioned in hushed, but excited, tones that Sirius could have been a secret operative for MI6 or the CIA, and met such demise, Althea did not dismiss such an outlandish notion. Althea inhaled a ragged breath as Sophie looked upon her with peaked interest. Warily surveying the oblivious crowd, she began to divulge the happenings and truths of the past year. Sophie listened intently as Althea told of Peter Pettigrew's betrayal, Sirius's escape, and how Althea came to know the truth.

"Bloody hell," she whispered as Althea finished. "I'll need more than champagne."

Althea laughed sadly. "Indeed."

Sophie leaned back in her chair as she studied Althea. "And to be in love after all this," she said and sighed. "I'm terribly jealous."

"Oh, I—"

"Lady M saved that look for one man," she said, wagging her finger. "I should've realized—"

"You—you know, then?"

"You have _Stephen _now," she said and winked. "That fantastic foreign war correspondent, whose father invented the three-prong electrical plug, and is now heir to such fortune."

Althea smiled. "Very true."

"Hang on," she said, sitting up. "I don't remember him as a blond. Sort of longish black hair," she added, motioning the length of the younger Sirius's hair. Sophie gasped, slamming her hand against the arm of the plastic chaise. "Oh, clever that magic!" she said, playfully narrowing her eyes. "Escapes, disguises, outwitting the police…I wish George was as exciting."

"No, you wouldn't," Althea laughed quietly. "He's good for you."

"And Stephen, for you. I've never seen you smile as much. You can barely keep your hands or eyes off one another," she said and took a sip of champagne.

"Twelve years."

"God, yes!" she moaned and held up her glass in honor of Althea. "He's good for you. You deserve all the happiness in the world, my dear friend."

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed the story so far. What is is store for Althea? A denizen of the Dark Arts.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Althea held the letter written on Black Family stationery as she waited on the desolate road. _Where is Dunwell_, she thought, frowning slightly at the wide expanse of nothingness around her. The cool wind blew a few black curls across her face. _It would've been helpful to know the village or the nearest town_. No house could be seen for miles—only small purple flowers and tall grasses, lazily bending for the breeze, filled the landscape. Althea read the letter once more:

_We're safe and miss you. _

_Dunwell Hall, Norfolk_

The letter burst into a bright blue ball of flame. Althea gasped and took a step backward.

"Found it all right?" Sirius asked and took her hand.

"I found nothing," she said, looking around. "I must've Apparated to the wrong place."

"No, you didn't," he said and smiled. He kissed the back of her hand. "It's not Northfield, but it'll do."

Sirius lifted his wand and Althea heard the creak of a gate. There, through an opening large enough for a gate, the veil of the countryside was removed and she saw in the distance a tall stone house.

"Come on, then," he said and squeezed her hand. "Welcome to Dunwell Hall."

Althea entered the gate and the monotonous countryside immediately vanished. Before her, was a long gravel and dirt path lined with tall, drooping trees—some dead—that led to the impressive house. Thick grasses, overgrown shrubs, and weeds marked their path as they walked. Althea had to admit—as she looked upon the once structured lawn—Dunwell was at one time very beautiful.

"My grandfather placed special protections to make it undetectable," he said, pulling her close to him. "Unplottable and untraceable, as well."

Althea wrinkled her nose at the dead rosebushes. The grey twigs reminded her of the dementor's hands. She gulped. Still, life could be seen—small sparrows hopped about their branches and flew from dead rosebush to dead rosebush.

"This was the safest place for our daughter?" she remarked, her eyes transfixed upon the house.

Now close, she was impressed by the beauty of the house. It was not the size of Northfield, but it was just as imposing. It was older than Northfield—at least a century or more—and ivy climbed the grey stone walls and hung like curtains around the stained glass windows. Althea wrinkled her nose as she realized many of the windows bore the Black family crest.

"It's not as awful as my childhood home," he said, looking up at the house. "I'd never allow her there."

"How is she?" she asked and noticed small wet patches upon Sirius' shirt. "She was crying…the poor girl."

Sirius nodded. "She's fine now," he said and held up his wand. The great wooden doors opened and Althea peered into the darkness inside. "She'll be excited to see you."

"Of course, she is," Althea said as she entered the doorway. "This fulfilled her gothic dream."

From Sirius's descriptions of Grimmauld Place, and her own brief sojourn, Althea had expected Dunwell Hall to be the fortress of the Dark Arts. Sunlight poured into the impressive entrance hall through the stained glass windows, which illuminated the small flecks of dust that hung in the air. Handsome paintings—a little blackened from lack of upkeep—lined the expansive entrance hall's now dingy green walls. Althea left Sirius and walked deeper into the hall.

"I'm disappointed," she said, slowly turning to take in her surroundings. "I expected—" She looked up at the ceiling and saw the chandelier. Thick cobwebs almost obscured the twenty-four tarnished silver snakes that held candles in their open mouths. "Oh, to be mistress of this!" she teased and stuck out her tongue.

Sirius made a face at the chandelier. "Disgusting," he said and took her hands in his. "My love, I know this isn't what we wanted. I never thought—but this house…it can provide us with protections we didn't have before."

"Protections?" she repeated in a whisper.

Sirius had been less than forthright in his explanations over his return to England. In Bermuda and the night of the World Cup, Sirius spoke in generalities to placate her questions. He had spent twelve years listening to the madness of the Death Eaters within Azkaban's walls. The dementors were his intimate companions.

"What won't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Why it is so important we are protected by Dunwell?" she asked, letting go of his hands.

Sirius sighed with mild defeat. He took a step back—the inward struggle of his explanation apparent upon his thin face. "Harry wrote me."

"And?"

"His scar," he said, absently rubbing above his right eye, "it hurt him this summer. It's not an ordinary scar…it's Dark—"

"I'm aware of how it came to be."

His look pleading, he spoke, "It's a connection to Voldemort—"

"Does Harry know this?"

"Vaguely, yes," he answered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I spoke with Dumbledore the night I left you in that nightclub…it wasn't coincidence his scar hurt him and then, days later, the Dark Mark appeared above the Quidditch World Cup—" Sirius retrieved the crumpled letter from his pocket. "I haven't written him yet," he said, offering her the letter.

Althea held the letter before her, attempting to focus despite Harry's poor penmanship. "That Dudley's right foul, isn't he?" she remarked and Sirius murmured his agreement. "God, that Dursley's poisoned the lot. I tried, Sirius, I truly did, but we can't help who we're born to, can we?" she continued, but quieted once she came to the paragraph in which Harry described his scar.

She folded the letter and handed it to him.

Sirius grasped Althea's hands in his. "Dunwell…it can provide those with the blood of Arcturus special protections."

"That doesn't help me."

"You carried my daughter," he said and looked to their joined hands. "If something were to happen to me, I want you to take Prudence here—"

"Sirius—"

"Promise me, please."

"Sirius…" she said, but saw the fear and desperation upon his face. "Yes."

Sirius kissed her fingers. "I believe we should stay the night," he said, letting go of her hands. "To let this cool off."

"The Ministry already questioned me."

Sirius paled. "Everything is okay?"

"I had to remind the Aurors that I was the boring old Muggle Studies professor and you were the Dark Prince of Blood Purity," she said and Sirius made a face. "They won't bother me again…Kingsley was there."

Sirius's eyes widened slightly. "Kingsley?"

Althea nodded. "I reckon he's leading the search for your capture."

Sirius licked his lips. "Kingsley," he muttered and looked to the floor. "He's good…powerful."

"He won't," she said and gently bit her bottom lip. "He understands why I wouldn't defend you…the attack—"

"It doesn't matter," he replied, faintly shaking his head. "We'll spend the night."

Althea wrinkled her nose. "Are you sure? This house—it hasn't been lived in for some time."

"It'll do."

"It's Dunwell—"

"I'm aware—"

"I thought we weren't going to expose her to this?"

"We'll stay in the sitting room," he said, pointing over his shoulder. "I searched the room for Dark objects. It's safe."

"Oh God," she said, rubbing her forehead. "Dark objects? Sirius—"

"I didn't find any," he said, placing his hands upon her upper arms. "I reckon the lot is in that awful house or hidden."

"Do you really think she'll stay in that room?"

"I'll lock the door," he said and kissed her forehead.

"Does she know…?"

Sirius shook his head. "She thinks it's abandoned," he said with a sad smile.

The door across from the couple creaked loudly as it opened. Remus stepped forward, smiling pleasantly as he closed the door behind him.

"Hang on," Althea said, furrowing her brow. "I thought—"

"The protections and secrecy of the house are separate," Sirius whispered, stroking the small of her back with his fingertips. "Moony?"

"She's very disappointed there are no ghosts here," he said and shook his head. "You've let her down, Padfoot."

Sirius shrugged.

Remus shoved his hands in his pockets. "Anything with the Ministry?"

"Confronted me at a polo match," she said, "and I convinced the Aurors they were mistaken."

"Good," Remus replied, but his look was wary. "The damn Malfoys."

"Narcissa knows," she said in a low voice. "I saw it in her eyes—that look."

"Well, of course," Sirius said, "the Ministry—"

Althea shook her head. "No, _Prudence_," she said as the men looked at her with slight bemusement. "What she said—didn't you hear it?"

Sirius and Remus shook their heads.

Althea eyed the door as she whispered, "'Happy family outing.'"

The men remained silent.

"Do you think your mother told anyone?" she asked. "Or someone read the letter sent to her—"

Sirius placed his hands upon Althea's shoulders. "I doubt my mother would've announced the birth of her blood traitor son's daughter."

"But your grandfather—"

"Probably reinstated me as he thought I'd returned to the family," he said, gently massaging her shoulders. "A gesture, really. He loved his money as much as he loved his pure blood, and he would never let a Malfoy near it."

"Don't bloody lie to me," she said, knocking his hands from her.

"She wanted to upset you, that's all."

"I'm not stupid," she said, crossing her arms. "She read that letter—"

Sirius grasped Althea's arms. "And what if she did? _Nothing_ can harm our Prudence," he said in earnest. "I swear to you."

"Look at us," she said, holding out her arms. "We're in Dunwell, dodging the Ministry. She doesn't understand—she's a child! We can't—we can't do this to her," she said and let out a faint growl. "Gran is right, we're not fit to be her parents. Maybe she shouldn't—" she added and grimaced. She looked toward Remus. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I'm in Dunwell, dodging the Ministry as well," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "No, when I speak with them, I will insist the Parkers return Prudence to Hogwarts," he added and furrowed his brow. "They have no idea what is out there now."

Althea raised an eyebrow.

"I'll even go as far as to suggest they relinquish guardianship to you while Prudence is at Hogwarts because you would know what is best for a magical child—"

"Moony?" Sirius breathed with a small smile.

Remus sighed—his expression grim. "There was talk at the Registry…something is happening," he said and swallowed. "More werewolves going rogue," he added in a whisper.

"Rogue?" she asked.

Remus nodded. "Avoiding Ministry detection, ignoring required quarterly registration," he said and massaged his wrist. "Open defiance of the new laws that Umbridge passed…at least, at first it was thought that."

Althea swallowed. She knew what Remus would insinuate to the Parkers—he would imply that Prudence was in danger from these rogue werewolves. A werewolf that specialized in children bit Remus as a small boy, and it horrified her that such a despicable, subhuman being could exist and coexist without consequences. How many children had that werewolf bitten? Althea only knew of one boy that had attended Hogwarts. Were the rest abandoned by their families? Did they not survive? Althea shivered.

"I might even show them my scars."

"No one wants to see those bite marks upon your ass," Sirius replied and clapped Remus upon the shoulder. "Thanks, Moony."

Remus slipped his hands in his pockets as the three walked toward the sitting room. "Think nothing of it, Padfoot."

Althea entered the sitting room with the two men behind her. Thick cobwebs and dust covered every surface of the elegantly decorated room. Was this the room that Arcturus summoned Sirius to after Regulus's funeral to tell him that it should've been Sirius that died? Althea imagined Sirius, his jaw clenched, in the center of the room as Arcturus calmly told Sirius what a disappointment he was to the family and to the cause. Althea clenched her fist at her side. _Such the bloody hypocrite_, she thought, glad that no portraits of Arcturus or Sirius's family hung upon the walls. _Did he berate Sirius with the same fervor as Gran would lecture me_? And now, Sirius was reinstated as heir and her Prudence had a personal vault at Gringott's? _They've always known she was alive_, she thought and frowned. _I know it_. Upon the sofa of faded green fabric, with her knees to her chest, sat Prudence. Pensive—more pensive than Althea had ever seen—she gently chewed at her bottom lip, her eyes seeming to stare through the dirtied ornate rug upon the floor. _What have we done_, she thought as Prudence had not yet realized Althea had entered. _We've been so selfish…we love you so very much…so much so that we've hurt you_.

"Prudence?" she said quietly.

Prudence was jolted from her reverie and quickly turned to see Althea.

"Everything is all right," Althea said, sitting next to Prudence.

"But—"

"I'd convinced the Ministry the eye-witnesses had made a mistake," she said as the two men sat across from them. "It wasn't very difficult once the Aurors realized I was the Muggle Studies professor. I reckon I didn't realize how useful it was."

Prudence smiled, but her true nature was brooding. "I'm glad."

"I'll use it in my defense," Sirius quipped and winked. "Well done, Pip," he added, resting his legs upon the coffee table, "Muggle methods are always best with a Malfoy."

"Don't congratulate her," Althea mouthed.

Sirius shrugged and smiled pleasantly at Prudence.

Prudence paled. "Malfoy?" she breathed, her face bearing moderate anguish. She quickly turned to Althea. "He's—"

"Not going to bother you," Remus said. "I doubt his father would let it slip he was thoroughly assaulted by a soon-to-be second-year Gryffindor."

Prudence slowly extended her legs. "Still," she muttered, "those words." She furrowed her brow. "I've never heard them."

"What words?" Sirius asked, leaning forward. "What did Malfoy say to you?"

Prudence appeared hesitant.

"The usual pleasantries," Althea spoke for Prudence.

"You were too kind in kicking Malfoy's shin," Sirius sneered, removing his legs from the table.

Prudence twisted her hands in her lap, her fingers catching the fabric of her dress. "What—what did he mean by, 'half-breed'?"

Remus smoothed the graying brown hair from his face. "He meant me," he explained and gulped.

Prudence whimpered. "That is awful. I'm sorry I—"

Althea blinked—that Remus would be so forthcoming with a response. However, she recognized that change in Remus, too. Her eyes focused upon his worn collar and the locket hidden beneath his clothes. He loved Prudence as Sirius loved Harry. Prudence held Remus in such high esteem, and—despite the knowledge of his lycanthropy, which would turn most away—her esteem did not waver.

"As a werewolf—"

"Ridiculous," Prudence interrupted, thrusting her hands to her sides. "You're a human being."

"Ha!" Sirius barked.

"_Human_," Althea teased, playfully narrowing her eyes at Remus.

Remus let a small smile escape. "Ah, but one night a month—"

"So?" she snorted and wrinkled her nose. "You're human."

"So?" Sirius laughed and winked at Prudence. "I've been telling you that for years—"

"Not all of my kind—"

Sirius threw his head back against the sofa and groaned. "Would you stop with the 'my kind' bit?" he said and made a face. "It's bloody exhausting."

"I agree, very much so," Althea said, fighting a smile. "_Tiresome_."

Remus rolled his eyes at the couple. "Fine, then," he sighed and smiled at Prudence. "You've convinced me."

"Lies," Prudence muttered and realized she spoke aloud. She quickly gasped and covered her mouth.

Althea shook with quiet laughter.

Sirius, still laughing, nudged Remus, He whispered into Remus's ear.

"Uncanny," Remus said as he looked from Prudence to Althea.

Althea smiled thoughtfully at Prudence. "Not many think like us."

"I know," she murmured and frowned, kicking her heel against the floor. "It isn't fair."

All agreed.

"And that other word," Prudence began, as if she had swallowed something sour, "I—I've never heard it. It was just as awful as what he was about to call me."

Althea winced and Sirius' smile faded—he inhaled deeply.

"Muckblood?" Althea said quietly.

Prudence nodded.

"I reckon after the World Cup the Aurors are itching for a raid," Sirius said and bit the inside of his cheek. "An anonymous tip about a house in Wiltshire will suit them fine."

Prudence wrinkled her brow.

Althea leaned close to Prudence. "It was a term used during the war for a witch with some Muggle blood that dated or married a pure-blooded wizard," she explained softly. "Some—like Malfoy—still use it today, unfortunately."

"A Muggle-born?" she asked with a fretful expression. "Is it used for Muggle-borns?"

Althea shook her head. "No, not Muggle-borns," she said and smoothed her skirt. "No, that term was reserved for someone like me," she said, staring at the lilac gingham pattern. "The pure-blood fanatics were convinced witches like me would stop at nothing until we attained the ranks of the elite…that we thought so highly of ourselves to seek out their precious pure-blooded sons."

"Horrible," Prudence whispered, the crease deepening between her eyebrows. "You can't help who you fall in love with, can you?"

"The pool of pure-blooded wizards is very limited so any rational thought is an oversight," she explained. "Why should any pure-blooded wizard need a witch with such inferior blood when there are appropriate pure-blooded witches from respected families?"

Sirius let out a snort of derision. "Bollocks," he muttered and tossed the thick black locks from his face. "Certain I_respected_/I pure-blood families," he said as he darkly looked about the room. "Idiots, the lot of them…to be a Black meant that you were all but royal."

Prudence made a face. "But you're a countess?"

Althea nodded. "Which angered them more, I can assure you."

Prudence shook her head. "It's stupid."

"It is," she agreed.

Prudence looked toward Sirius. "What did they call you?"

"Blood traitor," he answered with a small, bitter smile. "I don't think anyone dared to call me anything nastier."

"They never spared me," Althea said.

"It's awful," Prudence said, folding her arms. "Those words—I never want to hear them for the rest of my life."

"You don't have to," Sirius said and, with a grand flourish of his wand arm, added, "hex them."

"That isn't the best way," Remus said.

Althea nodded. "I would ignore it," she said as Sirius's expression showed his distaste. "It's a dying group—maybe a handful in all of Wizarding Britain. The majority of witches and wizards are just like you and me," she explained and nodded toward Sirius, "and like Sirius—not caught up in matters of blood."

"But the World Cup," she said, kicking her heel against the rug, which created a small plume of grey dust.

Remus leaned forward. "You are a witch, an exceptional witch, Prudence. You _belong_ at Hogwarts," he said and Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't let anyone make you feel differently."

Prudence allowed a weak smile to escape.

* * *

Althea's heavy eyes looked upon the sleeping Prudence. Prudence lay before the fireplace, curled upon her side in a fluffy pink sleeping bag. Althea's lips upturned into a sleepy smile as she listened to the crackling and popping of the orange fire—it's glow illuminating Prudence's sleeping face. Very little had changed in the way Prudence slept since she was an infant—her expression was still happy and innocent. Sirius shifted, tightening his arm around Althea's waist. She felt his warm breath intermingling with her hair and upon her neck, and she often imagined as she stood next to Prudence's cot, Sirius with her, kissing her neck and murmuring how he loved the mother and baby. Althea closed her eyes and remembered what it felt like to stroke Prudence's cheek. It was so small and soft, and Prudence would remain sleeping—oblivious to the tumultuous happenings around her. Althea opened her eyes and realized she had absently stroked the dirtied floor with her fingertips. She frowned and wiped the grey film from her fingertips. _How much you've grown_, she thought, focusing upon Prudence's thick black eyelashes. _Even in the span of one year_. Would she see Prudence again after they returned her to the Parkers? Would Prudence be at the Welcoming Feast? Could Althea allow the Parkers to make such a decision? Althea swallowed. Could she return Prudence to the Parkers? _It is so cruel_, she thought stroking the hair upon Sirius's arm, _to allow us this time with her and then to take her away. She's all we'll ever have_. Althea's hand slipped from Sirius's arm to her lower abdomen. She had tried—in hospitals in Europe and North America—various treatments promised to reverse the curse placed upon her. No method—whether magic or desperately Muggle—allowed her to carry to term. Sister Margaret had guided her toward acceptance, and she had the children of Hogwarts and Afina. Afina. Althea thought to the pamphlet Afina had given her that summer holiday. _It has been some time since my last evaluation_, she thought, focusing upon Prudence. _It's just…I've grown so accustomed to her_. She had grown accustomed to Prudence—to her laugh, to her smell, to the worry of looking after such a curious girl. She was a girl ignorant of most magic, but hungry to learn, and Althea could guide her as a magical mother would. Mother? Teacher? _I'll never be more than Althea_.

Althea slipped out of the sleeping bag and Sirius made one last attempt to hold her, rolling onto his stomach. Quietly, she crawled over to her daughter and knelt next to her. Althea's fingertips lightly touched Prudence's cheek. _And the Parkers will come at the weekend and it will tear us apart_, she thought as the tears collected upon her eyelashes. _It's so very wrong_.

Althea kissed Prudence's temple. "I love you," she whispered and kissed her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

Tightly shutting her eyes—the hot tears stinging against her eyelids—she painfully swallowed. It felt as if the room was collapsing upon her—she had to get out. Carefully standing, she walked over the window. She looked out the stained glass window into the night sky. She carefully unlatched the lock and pushed open the window—it gave easily. _I'm not a coward_, she thought as she transformed_. I just can't_.

The sound of her footsteps against the earth and grass broke the silence of the night. Alone, Althea allowed her tears to blur her vision as she walked the path from Dunwell Hall. With every step, the memory of Prudence's last night became clearer. The dead rosebushes transformed into snowdrifts, which seemed insurmountable. Still, she had to escape, and she could almost feel that warm bundle in that soft pink blanket against her breast. Prudence didn't cry—she was content and unaware. It bolstered Althea's resolve. She had been vulnerable and had made a terrible mistake. Althea truly knew what was best for Prudence and could provide for her happiness and protection. And, when cornered in that grove of pine trees, Althea did not waver. Not until she raised her wand at the Muggles in desperation was she defeated. It would take a Stunning Spell to remove Prudence from Althea's grasp.

She massaged her stomach at the feeling of panicked desperation. How would she muster happiness at the sight of the Parkers? All she could have hoped for was that Prudence knew that Althea existed, but now…. Althea was aware of the wand in her pocket. One good Memory Charm. The Parkers could forget. Prudence could forget. Althea roughly wiped her eyes. _I can't be like his mother_, she thought, coughing violently. _I can't do what was done to me. She's a mother and loves her just as I do_. Althea could not be at Northfield when the Parkers would collect Prudence at the weekend. _I can't hand her over again_, she thought, walking faster toward the gate in the distance. _I'll go to Hogwarts—anywhere. I can't watch Sirius_—Althea shuddered.

"Althea!" Sirius shouted, his running footsteps growing louder.

Althea shook her head, tears falling against her cheeks, and continued toward the gate.

"Bloody hell, Althea!" Sirius panted. "I can't Apparate! Stop!"

Althea stopped and shut her eyes. _You can't convince me otherwise_, she thought as Sirius stopped behind her. _I won't give her up a third time_.

"Where are you going? It's half past three!"

Althea slowly turned to face him.

Sirius looked upon her tear-stained face and understood. "My love—"

"Just let me go," she croaked, lowering her eyes. "Please."

Sirius shook his head and pulled her close to him. Althea felt her legs give out from underneath her and Sirius held her tightly to him as to steady her. He didn't murmur soothing sounds or comforting words to her. It wouldn't come right. How could it?

"I can't—I can't give her back," she said as Sirius swept the wet hair from her face. "I can't be there when they take her from us," she added, lifting herself from him. "No more."

Sirius stepped forward, reaching for her, but Althea folder her arms.

"I didn't need dementors to remember the moment they took her from me," she said, digging her nails into her arms. "The thought of losing her again—I should never have had this time with her—"

"Shut up."

Althea caught her breath and furrowed her brow.

"You've been hanging round Remus too long," he said, placing his hands upon Althea's. He gently pried them from her arms and held them in his. "All that bloody questioning and deserving. She needs you to fight for her and you're ready to leave?"

"I can't fight—"

"Bollocks," he said quickly and squeezed her hands. "Absolute bollocks."

"Don't," she warned, pulling her hands from him.

Sirius grabbed her shoulders. "You are her mother—"

"It will tear you apart when she's gone!"

Sirius quieted.

"She's all we'll have," she said, her throat painfully tight. She attempted to swallow and winced. "She doesn't remember me," she added, the tears falling upon her cheeks, "or that I love her. Her happiness is everything, and to know that she is happy while I ache—" Althea closed her eyes.

"Harry."

"What?"

"Harry," he said softly, taking a handkerchief to her cheek. "How could you forget? We're all he's got…. Before Peter escaped, I'd asked Harry to live with me."

"You did?" she asked, feeling herself smile.

"Well, I am his godfather. He could," he said, looking to his hands as he folded the handkerchief, "live with us."

"Oh, I don't think—"

"I know what Lily did," he replied, dabbing her other cheek. "Dumbledore told me, but a Christmas or a holiday…you sort of gave birth to him, too."

Althea laughed quietly. "He doesn't know I exist, though," she said and bit her lip. "I've been…I'm sorry."

"I reckon he'll understand…and he probably won't eat as much as James or be as untidy."

Sirius gazed upon Althea with a hopeful expression. He had written Harry several times that summer holiday—long letters he asked Althea to take to Bimini to send. She never asked Sirius what he wrote, but she knew by his smirk the letters were filled with stories about James. _Dumbledore and his stupid, ancient magic be damned_, she thought. _Harry needs Sirius_.

Althea nodded. "We'll have Christmas at Northfield."

Sirius grinned. "Thank you," he murmured and kissed her cheek.

Sirius slipped his arm around her waist and guided her toward Dunwell. _It will break your heart, my love_, she thought as Sirius formulated the plan to surprise Harry with his Christmas holiday, _when she leaves us…but you have Harry_. Althea's mind drifted to the one Christmas spent with Sirius and the Potters. Despite the escalating war (which had destroyed Sirius's flat weeks prior—Rabastan Lestrange had paid Sirius a visit to encourage him to join the Death Eaters, but as Sirius was not home, he left Sirius a message), the Potters gathered their friends in Godric's Hollow for Harry's first Christmas. _So many of us wouldn't live for the next Christmas_, she thought as she remembered the cheerful faces of Mary, Dorcas, Lily, and James.

"Do you think Harry will still be happy with presents of ribbon and wrapping paper?" she wondered aloud.

"What?"

"You don't remember?" she asked as Sirius placed his hand against the door. The doors creaked open. "Harry only cared about the ribbon on his presents and not the presents themselves, much to your displeasure."

Sirius chuckled quietly. "He very much enjoys his Firebolt."

"It's almost too fast," she said, holding aloft her lit wand in the darkened entrance hall. "He's just a boy."

"With a Firebolt," he said and quietly opened the sitting room door.

Remus, softly snoring, slept before them—the sleeping bag pulled over his head.

"Can he breathe?" Sirius wondered.

"Quiet," she mouthed, nudging him gently.

Prudence, her position unchanged, slept before the fireplace.

"Look at her," he whispered, smiling.

He took Althea's hand and guided her toward their daughter. He stopped before the girl cuddled in her pink sleeping bag and tenderly kissed Althea's hand. His look was one of gratefulness as he gazed upon Prudence and then Althea. Althea forced her lips to smile, clenching her teeth together to suppress the sob caught in her throat. _We should be at Northfield, in our cottage. You and I asleep in our bed and our Prudence asleep in her room_. Sirius knelt before Prudence. _A loving and whole family_. Althea knelt next to Sirius and the couple, silent, watched Prudence as she slept. She cursed time that the week seemed to pass so swiftly toward the weekend and Prudence's departure. _I never thought I'd thank a Death Eater for bringing my Prudence to me…for this moment_, she thought—glossy black ringlets fell into Prudence's sleeping face. _But I will forever curse them for taking you away from me_.

"In Dunwell, dodging the Ministry…it was never my intention to hurt her," she said, stroking the ringlets from Prudence's cheek.

Sirius rested his cheek against Althea's shoulder. "You didn't."

"Are you sure?"

She felt Sirius nod. "It's all my fault," he whispered. "If I hadn't gone to Diagon Alley—"

"You couldn't help it," she said, resting her hand against Sirius's rough cheek. She felt him smile against her hand.

"D'you think the Parkers do this?"

"What? Watch her sleep?"

"Yeah," he murmured, his fingertips tracing small circles upon her back.

"She is twelve."

"It doesn't matter."

"I don't know," she said as Prudence shifted, curling her hand beneath her cheek. "As an infant, perhaps."

Sirius sat up and sniffed. She looked at him with great interest as he pulled something from the pocket of his shirt. His thin hands held before him the photograph of mother and baby only one hour after birth. Althea looked upon her younger self and her tired, smiling face as she held the sleeping Prudence. That Sirius carried her most cherished photograph so close to him caused Althea's lips to tremble into a smile. He looked from the sleeping Prudence in the photograph to the sleeping Prudence before him.

"Beautiful," he whispered and bent forward to kiss Prudence's temple. Sirius tenderly glided his fingertip along Prudence's cheek. "What would it hurt if we tell her?"

Althea inhaled a sharp breath. "No—"

Sirius quickly turned his head toward Althea. "Tell her now," he mouthed with insistence. "Everything."

Althea slowly shook her head.

Sirius returned to Prudence. He turned his head slightly to the side as he considered his sleeping daughter. "I named you," he whispered and gently tucked the sleeping bag under Prudence's chin. "I, your father."

He looked toward Althea and gave an encouraging nod. _Tell her everything_, she thought as Sirius took her hand. _Where would I begin_? She felt a painful unease in the pit of her stomach as she knelt before her daughter. It was hoped that one day Prudence would learn the circumstances of her birth, and Althea's mind imagined all sorts of different scenarios: from tearful happiness, to rage-fueled confrontation, to silent disappointment. Upon learning the truth of her birth, what would Prudence remember of this week? How would she interpret every moment by Althea and Sirius? All around her knew the truth, but continued to feign ignorance for the happiness of this little girl. Would she interpret the gesture out of love or would she feel betrayed by the silence?

Althea licked her dry lips and inhaled a hesitant breath. "You have every right to hate me," she whispered, "but everything I've done was, and will always be, for your happiness." She bent forward and kissed Prudence's temple—her hair smelled of strawberries. "You are _my_ Prudence," she whispered and Sirius tenderly pressed her hand. "I love you."

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! Thank you so much for the comments and reviews.

Miriel: Thank you so much for your comments! I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

What is in store for Althea? A message to Gran.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Althea's eyelids slowly opened—her lashes gently prying themselves apart amid the dried tears and sleep. How she hated that feeling of waking after a night of crying. The heavy, dull feeling in her forehead remained and would last for at least the morning. She was grateful she did not wake with a headache at least. She sat up and rubbed her forehead to relieve the sinking, woozy feeling. Arching her back, she groaned slightly at the stiffness sleeping upon the floor of Dunwell brought. _I reckon I'll sleep most the afternoon_, she thought, massaging her neck. Sirius yawned loudly next to her. He smiled sleepily and raised his hand to pinch Althea's nose.

"Morning," she whispered and kissed his fingers.

"Morning," he whispered and lifted himself onto his elbows. He looked about him and frowned. "Where's she gone?"

"What?" Althea looked to where Prudence had been.

Prudence's sleeping bag was empty. Althea looked from the sleeping bag to Remus, who peacefully slept, to the rest of the room. Nothing was disturbed from the room—it was just as they had left it, covered in years of dust and cobwebs—except for the opened sitting room door. Althea gulped; a slight feeling of dread filled her empty stomach.

"Where could she have gone?" she asked, wrinkling her brow. "You might've searched—"

"Right," he said and stood from the floor. "Don't hex me in front of her, it's all I ask," he added as he held out his hand.

_Where could that girl have gone off to_, she wondered as the couple entered the dimly lit entrance hall. Althea cursed her daughter's cleverness. _What sort of little girl could've broken those charms? It would take a little more than a bloody, _'Alohamora.' Althea peered into the darkened drawing room. The family portrait above the marble mantle of Orion, Walburga, and Regulus slept—the green velvet chair next to Regulus was empty.

"Must've walked out when I ran away," he whispered and eyed the portrait with a bitter expression.

Althea tilted her head to the side—drawn to the empty chair. She imagined the teenage Sirius wandering the portraits and landscapes of Dunwell in a futile attempt to escape.

"Come on," he whispered and tugged at her hand.

Althea nodded—her eyes reluctantly looking away from the sad family portrait as Sirius pulled her further into Dunwell.

"Probably the library," Sirius said and swallowed.

She felt a small tremble in his fingers as the urgency in his step increased. The library would be the one room in Dunwell that would house the most sinister of objects and books filled with Dark spells. Horrific thoughts began to fill Althea's mind as they sprinted toward the opulent marble staircase. _She could be dead_, she thought and quickened her step. Suddenly, she heard laughter—girlish bark-like laughter—from behind the door to her right. Althea stopped—her bare feet skidding a few steps along the dust-covered floor. She soon heard a man's laughter join Prudence.

"Right!" Sirius breathed and slashed his wand at the door.

A jet of orange light connected with the door and it violently swung open—causing a few trinkets from a nearby sideboard to fall to the floor and shatter. The couple rushed forward into the green damask wallpapered room to see Prudence—wide-eyed—behind a rather large mahogany desk before of a portrait of man who looked very displeased at their method of entry. It was fourteen years since she saw him last—dressed in fine black robes just like that day. His grey hair nobly fell into equally grey eyes with a countenance so much like her Sirius that it was not very difficult to understand Gran's rash dislike of him. _Arcturus_, she thought and caught her breath. How long was Prudence alone with him? What was said? Sirius darkly looked upon the life-size portrait of his grandfather and bit the inside of his cheek.

Arcturus looked from Prudence to the couple. "As it will always be," he said with the smoothness that Sirius's voice had lost.

"Get away from him," Sirius demanded, his eyes not wavering from Arcturus' smirking portrait.

Prudence hesitated.

"_Now_!" he growled.

Prudence jumped and stumbled back toward Arcturus's portrait.

"Really, Sirius," Arcturus admonished and shook his head, "apologize to the poor girl."

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Althea violently squeezed his hand.

"Come, Prudence," Althea said softly, holding out her other hand. "Let us return to the sitting room, shall we?"

Prudence warily looked from Arcturus to Althea. She nodded.

Althea smiled weakly and met Prudence before the desk. Out of her periphery, she sensed Arcturus's interest in the display.

"We were so worried for you," she said, placing her hands upon Prudence's shoulders. "It's not good to run off in a house such as this."

"This is a fine house—"

Althea held up her hand to quiet Arcturus. "It hasn't been lived in for ages," she explained, unnerved by Prudence's thoughtful grey eyes. "You could've been hurt."

"I'm sorry," Prudence whispered, looking toward the floor. "I shouldn't have—"

"Indeed, you shouldn't have," Sirius snapped, taking deliberate steps toward the two. "You have no idea—"

"Oh, I think she has a _very_ _good_ idea—"

"SHUT _UP_!" Sirius roared, brandishing his wand at the portrait.

Arcturus chuckled softly.

"Come on," Althea whispered and tenderly squeezed Prudence's trembling shoulders, "breakfast at Northfield awaits us."

Sirius nodded—his eyes unwavering from his grandfather. "Yes, please go."

Arcturus nodded—his grey eyes intently staring down his grandson. "Good day, Prudence."

Althea's stomach sank with dread. "Right," she said and inhaled a breath to steady herself. "Off to Northfield, then," she added as she coaxed Prudence toward the door.

Prudence looked back toward Sirius. "I'm really—"

"Yeah," he replied, still transfixed upon Arcturus.

The two entered the dim, sunlit hall—the door slamming behind them—and silently walked toward the sitting room. The thought of Prudence in conversation with Arcturus Black caused Althea to retract her hands from Prudence's shoulders. _How long were you there_, she wondered as Prudence fiddled with a delicate woven silver chain around her neck. _What was spoken_? Indeed, what was spoken? It seemed to have been a pleasant conversation, and the lack of Prudence's tears soothed her unease that secrets were revealed. _You laugh with our Prudence and, yet, forsake George? Your portrait has treated you too kindly_.

"I want to apologize to Sirius," she said, wringing her hands before her.

"You will, after we've returned to Northfield," she said and, out of the corner of her eye, saw two Abraxans flying through a grime-covered landscape.

Prudence shook her head. "No, I shouldn't have left the room," she said, and stopped. "He was so angry with me."

"No," she replied, smoothing a curl behind Prudence's ear. "No, he could never be angry with you."

Prudence bit her bottom lip.

"It's just…Arcturus and Sirius never saw eye to eye," she said, the knuckle of her forefinger caressing Prudence's chin. "You understand, don't you?"

Prudence nodded.

Althea forced a grin. "Afina is probably very bored," she whispered conspiratorially and winked.

Prudence mustered a weak smile.

"Surely she'll want to know all the things you've bought for Hogwarts," she said, placing her hand upon Prudence's back to guide her toward the sitting room. "You still have some time to learn a few spells before the year starts."

A small crease developed between Prudence's eyebrows.

"Or you could enjoy—unfortunately—the last days of a brilliant summer holiday," she said as Prudence became more pensive. "I don't see why Genevieve or Freddie—"

"Who is Ariadne?"

Althea's chest felt as if it was collapsing upon itself and she endeavored to inhale more than a shallow breath. The two had stopped walking and Althea was unsure if she could move without her legs buckling underneath her. Ariadne. Why was that name spoken? Had Arcturus addressed her as such? It was the name Sirius's mother had sought to call Prudence. _They won't let me have you_, she thought, her lips and mouth unnaturally dry. _Even in death they exert their power_!

Althea licked her lips. "I don't know," she said hoarsely.

"Oh," she murmured, frowning, her fingers twisting the fine silver chain about her neck, "maybe—"

With a loud _bang_ the door to the study swung open, and Sirius—his face pale—hurriedly exited the room. Prudence took a step back and Althea placed her hand upon Prudence's back. Sirius, biting the inside of his cheek, looked up and noticed he was not alone in the entrance hall. His demeanor relaxed—his hurried steps were replaced with a steady, graceful gait. He slipped his hands in his pockets as he greeted them.

"My dear grandfather didn't upset you, did he?"

Prudence shook her head.

Sirius inhaled. "Good, good," he said as he nodded. "I should've been more honest about the ownership of this house," he continued and leaned closer to Prudence. "I'm a little embarrassed at its condition," he said quietly and glanced toward Althea. "It's downright decrepit compared to our Althea's Northfield."

"It's lovely," she replied and swallowed.

"Lies," Sirius said and tweaked her nose. "Right," he said and offered Prudence his arm, "I reckon you deserve a proper tour."

Althea raised an eyebrow. "What about—"

"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and Gringott's, my lovely," Sirius answered and winked at Althea. "Shall we?" he said, offering his arm to Prudence once more.

Prudence with slight apprehension upon her face looked to Althea.

"Go on," she encouraged, stroking Prudence's long hair.

Prudence took Sirius's arm.

"I think you'll discover I have a library that rivals Northfield," he said as the pair walked toward the staircase. He craned his neck to look at Althea and mouthed, "Arcturus."

As Prudence apologized to Sirius and Sirius repeatedly assured Prudence that he was not angry with her, Althea—satisfied that Prudence was distracted—returned to the study. The study must have been very handsome, but time had aged the room. The rich dark woods of the bookshelves flanking the fireplace were covered in a film of grime and dust with filmy cobwebs stretching across the book spines. It reminded her of Dumbledore's office with its number of trinkets and oddities, but the jovial clink and hum of Dumbledore's office was absent. There was an eeriness to the room for it was just as Arcturus, the last inhabitant, left it. Althea quickly shut the door and heard Arcturus sigh.

"Ariadne?" she questioned, stopping before his portrait. "You had to—" she began and growled.

Arcturus eyed Althea with an air of boredom. "It is her name, is it not?"

"Her name is Prudence," she said, her lips thinning, "and what your lot did—"

"You are a very silly girl to believe—"

"I'll tell Agnes that you said, 'hello,'" she said through gritted teeth.

Arcturus's calm demeanor faltered. He paled.

Althea leaned against the desk. "Horrifying to think a Muckblood like me could be mistress of this," she said and sneered as she looked about the room. Dusty silver picture frames housed photographs of Black family members—all but Sirius.

Arcturus made a noise of disgust.

"I'm a Muckblood, am I not?" she said and Arcturus winced. "His own mother—"

"Was deranged," he said and folded his arms. "She would've lived with me."

"Oh, brilliant," she said, resting her arms behind her. "I'm sure Agnes would've been pleased for you to recognize a child of her blood."

Arcturus's grey eyes narrowed. "Do not mock—"

"Scary how much she looks like George, isn't it?"

"Do not speak of him."

Althea let out a quiet laugh of spite. "Do not speak to Prudence…ever."

Arcturus sighed with annoyance. "You are as ignorant as my grandson," he said with a look that reminded her of Sirius. "What was done was to protect you—"

"Bollocks."

Arcturus inhaled deeply through his nostrils. "Sirius was the last upon Regulus's death and measures had to be taken to protect—"

"Your fortune."

"His _life_," he said, his hands tightening upon the armrests of his chair. "You were fools to think such a union in a time of war—"

Althea threw her head back and sighed loudly.

"—would go unnoticed by the Dark Lord…that your daughter would go unnoticed. Open that drawer," he said and motioned toward the desk behind Althea. "I want you to understand your foolishness."

Althea with an arrogant reluctance, lifted herself from the large desk, and gently eased the top right drawer open. Underneath quills and scraps of parchment, she noticed a black box with silver engraving. The silver serpents intricately weaved themselves along the box's borders and formed a lock without a key. Althea lifted the box from the drawer.

"How do I?"

"It will open for you."

Althea slid her finger along the lock and the serpents slowly contorted and writhed until she heard a _click_. She removed the heavy lid and the musty smell of old paper filled her nostrils. Althea's lips slightly parted and she inhaled a sharp breath. With trembling fingers, she lifted the letter from the box—the letter in faded black ink that detailed the circumstances of Prudence's survival.

"It was meant for Bellatrix," Arcturus said.

_Her name is Prudence, a filthy Muggle name,_

_ the influence of the Muckblood breeder, no doubt…_

"You weren't to survive that attack," he explained. "You were to be a message to Sirius from his cousin."

_The child is an abomination…_

Althea turned over the letter and continued to read. _I pray that a dementor takes your soul_, she thought, reading the personal address to Mistress Lestrange, _because murder is too kind for you_.

"We had to protect the interests of the family—"

Althea fiercely spun to look upon Arcturus. "To take my child away? To murder—"

"No," he said with forced calm, "to keep her safe."

Althea furrowed her eyebrows, holding up the letter. "His mother—"

"Quiet!" he warned, rising slightly in his seat. "_I_ convinced Walburga it was in the best interest for us to raise Prudence. Do you not understand? You and your child were marked for death! Under our protection, she would thrive—"

"Be poisoned," Althea said, crumpling the letter in her hand.

"You would rather your daughter die—"

"I gave her to Muggles!" she said quickly, slamming the box against the desk. "She was protected—"

"And now she's returned," Arcturus said, leaning back in his chair. "Surrounded by magic…eager to know all things…exceptional."

"Don't threaten me, you're just a portrait," she sneered and held her wand to the crumpled letter.

"No!" gasped Arcturus, holding up his hand. "You will need that letter—that box—to prove the truth."

"Prudence, won't—"

"The letter writer knew of Sirius's innocence," he explained and motioned for her to open the letter. "Read the last paragraph, again."

_That blood traitor has met his contrition in Azkaban with the understanding, no doubt, of that Muckblood tart's demise. His arrogance in his deal for her survival shall meet with consequence. Neither the mother nor the affront to Wizarding decency should thrive…_

What felt like ice water washed over Althea's face and trickled over her insides. "His deal for my survival?" she murmured and looked up from the letter. "Peter—Peter didn't write this."

Arcturus raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

She leaned against the desk, letting her hand fall to her side. "Peter was the Secret Keeper," she said to an interested Arcturus. "No deal was ever made," she said and bit her bottom lip, "but he knew—or she knew—of the plan…or thought so."

Althea wrinkled her brow as she thought of those that knew the Secret Keeper plan, of her pregnancy, and of that night. _They would never_, she thought and shook her head. She reread the paragraph and massaged her abdomen to counter the sick feeling in her stomach. _We had trusted him_, she thought as she fixated upon the word 'deal.' That Peter would willfully disclose to other Death Eaters and, in particular to Bellatrix—a woman that gleefully tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom to madness before their child—caused a faint Althea to slump against the desk_. I was to receive special treatment_, she remembered as Arcturus kept silent. Althea brought her hand to her forehead_. I can't imagine a fate worse_.

"It still proves his innocence," Arcturus said softly. "The letter writer knew he wasn't in league with the Dark Lord and the items in the box further the cause."

"Why didn't you?" she asked looking up from the letter.

Arcturus furrowed his brow. "I was obsolete."

Althea recognized the humiliation in his voice. The war had destroyed the Black Family and left very few that wanted to claim such relations. It was best to distance oneself. Arcturus gently rubbed his lips. _You were alone_, she thought as Arcturus lowered his head. _Was it worth it? Now, you're just a portrait upon a wall in an abandoned house_.

"My family suffered and lost too much during the war—"

"You chose the wrong side—"

"Did I?" he questioned, and sighed heavily. "Prudence is protected, you have my word."

"Thank you," she murmured and sniffed. She folded the letter and returned it to the box. "I should join my Sirius and Prudence."

Arcturus nodded.

_All the proof_, she thought, staring at the box while she absently walked the hall. She sighed. For thirteen years, those with the knowledge of Sirius's innocence kept a despicable silence. _It would've changed everything_. Suddenly, she heard giggling and quick footsteps behind her. She swiftly spun to meet them, slipping the box behind her back. Prudence, grinning, had to walk quickly to keep up with Sirius's long strides. Althea raised an eyebrow at a large picture frame underneath Sirius's arm. Sirius, with a pleased expression, placed his hand on the back of Prudence's head.

"I know who helped our Prudence break those very advanced charms," he said and winked at Prudence.

"You do?" Althea asked, rising and falling on the balls of her feet.

Prudence peered around Althea, and Althea shifted to hide the box.

"You promised not to hex me," he said, taking the large picture frame from underneath his arm.

He slowly rotated the front of the frame toward her. There, leaning with ease against the side of the portrait with his arms folded, was the sixteen-year-old Sirius—who eyed Althea with a casual air of boredom. He was not dressed in the fine robes of his parents and brother—no, he probably shed those robes in an act of defiance soon after the portrait was hung in Dunwell—but a black Led Zeppelin t-shirt and jeans that would have scandalized any decent blood purist. "Of course," she murmured as the young Sirius recognized the woman before him. "I would expect no one else."

He tossed the thick black hair from his face. "Hello, Morrigan," he said in a forced deep voice, which caused Althea's lips to quiver in suppressing a snicker.

Althea stepped forward and crouched to be eye to eye with him. "In the spirit of Gryffindor unity, it's Althea," she said and bit her bottom lip as the laughter built inside her.

The sixteen-year-old Sirius grinned.

"I couldn't leave him here," he said as the Sirius in the portrait craned his neck to look down Althea's dress, "all alone in this dreadful house."

"Of course, not," she said, standing upright. "Oh, but where should you go?"

"Hogwarts?" Prudence offered brightly.

"No," Sirius and Althea answered in unison.

"What," he said, looking from Sirius to Althea, "I can't go to Hogwarts? But—"

Althea shook her head, smiling. "No," she laughed, "McGonagall's had enough of you."

The Sirius in the portrait wrinkled his nose.

"I reckon there is a place in Northfield for you," she said and the young Sirius's face contorted into a pleasing smile.

"Your room—"

There was a loud _thud_ against the back of the portrait and the young Sirius lurched forward. He cast a dark look at the older Sirius. The older Sirius shrugged.

"No," she said and found it difficult not to smile at Sirius's hopeful expression, "you'll be very happy, I promise you."

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading and for all the comments/reviews!

What is in store for Althea? A daring duel


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Sirius yawned and stretched before he rested his head upon Althea's lap. He closed his eyes and smiled—Althea knew he relished the warm, bright feeling of sunshine upon his face. She would spend entire mornings and early afternoons sprawled upon her back in the courtyard of the convent in Alexandria during her recovery. Her fingertips slid between thick, smooth locks of black hair and Sirius moaned softly in appreciation. He reached and slapped at the blanket in search of her other hand. Althea slipped her hand underneath his and he brought it to his chest. She smiled as she felt the thump of his heartbeat through his thin linen shirt. _I swear we would spend hours like this_, she thought, as the weary look of Azkaban upon Sirius's face seemed to fade in the sunshine. She inhaled with a satisfied pleasantness as she remembered the spring evenings spent upon the Hogwarts grounds. The two, alone, silent and pleased to be in the other's presence.

Since his return to England, Sirius' sleep had been restful and without the violent nightmares or nocturnal outbursts. She was sure a return to England—so soon in his recovery—to a place filled with unhappy memories, would trigger such frightening episodes, but it had not. With his eyes closed, his mind demonstrated a peacefulness that Althea could never muster—that she thought Sirius could never attain. _She's good for you_, she thought, _for the both of us_.

Althea looked out to the lake before them—a darkened line of trees in the distance reflected upon the shimmering surface. The drone of insects complemented the laziness of the late afternoon. Their stomachs full, the three sat upon the blue checked blanket partially shaded by a grove of drooping willow trees.

"I'm bored," Afina groaned. "Where is she?"

Sirius frowned slightly.

"She wanted to fly by herself," Althea explained, twirling a lock of Sirius's hair between her fingers. "She'll return eventually."

Afina made a noise of disappointment as she swept a few strands of her straight brown hair off her face. "We only have a few more days," she said, tightening the lime green scarf under chin.

Althea's stomach tensed at the reminder that Prudence would return to the Parkers on Saturday; to return to the only family life she remembered and to a future uncertain. Indeed, Althea and Sirius had Wizarding law behind them, and a rightful, steadfast claim, but there was a great flaw in their scheme—Sirius was still very much the fugitive. _Even if we could, I couldn't_, she thought. _I know what it felt to be powerless…I still know_. On Saturday, Althea would hand over Prudence to the Parkers once more—the ache in her chest, somewhat extinguished by her presence, would return upon Prudence's goodbye. Would Althea see Prudence at the Welcoming Feast? _I have faith the Parkers will do the right thing…when they see Prudence's magic_.

"She will write to you," Althea replied. "I have no doubt of it. She thinks so very highly of you, Afina."

"And you."

Althea shook her head. "I wouldn't—"

"You really shouldn't be so dismissive," Sirius said and opened his eyes. "In my covert operation as Snuffles, I've discovered that Prudence thinks very highly of you," he continued and smiled softly. "She talks to me, you know. It's amazing what a person will tell a dog. I knew that you fancied me ages before you told me."

Althea straightened. "Has she said anything," she asked, and with a slight hesitation in her voice, she continued, "does she know?"

Sirius faintly shook his head. "She idolizes you, though."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm being very honest," he said, curling and extending her fingers. "She values your opinion. Why deny it?"

Althea frowned. "We've been so open to her," she said, looking through their clasped hands. "She's so eager to know. I couldn't help it."

"Neither could I," he said and a crease formed between his eyebrows. "They don't teach about the war?"

Althea shook her head. "Most want to forget…and I don't blame them," she said and sighed. "I wish I could."

"She's keen to know, isn't she?"

"It's impossible for her not to," she said, gently coaxing her hand from his, "when you delight her with stories of dueling Death Eaters."

Sirius smiled crookedly.

"You really should teach History of Magic," she added and slipped fingers underneath his unbuttoned shirt collar.

"Binns wouldn't let me," he said as Althea absently stroked the small, fine hair upon Sirius's chest. Sirius sighed happily. "Isn't Prudence fantastic, though? She performed that Transfiguration spell so quickly. She'll be an Animagus by sixteen, too."

Althea laughed lightly.

Sirius grinned. "One of five first-years to receive perfect marks on the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam."

Afina giggled. "So I've heard," she said and cleared her throat. She knowingly looked at Althea and winked. "I never thought of you as the fatherly type."

"Neither did I until recently," he said and frowned. "I'm a godfather and a father…two children I must worry about."

Althea leaned forward and kissed Sirius's forehead. "Be grateful you're not a schoolteacher."

Sirius's eyes widened as he cringed. Althea teasingly ruffled his hair.

Afina rested upon her elbows. "Prudence has really taken to Northfield, don't you think?"

"What girl wouldn't?" she said as Sirius smoothed his hair. "It's her personal Northanger Abbey."

Sirius raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"She has a fantastic imagination," Althea explained, disregarding Sirius's puzzled expression, "and a love of the dramatic."

"Like her mother," he replied and yawned.

"And a flair for seeking out trouble," she added and messed Sirius's hair once more, "much like her loathsome father."

"Yet, you reward him," he replied, "with a room at Northfield and a charmed portrait of your sixteen-year-old self."

"Would you've rather I'd charmed Gran's?"

Sirius shivered.

Afina sat forward. "Look, who has returned," she said as she slowly grinned.

Prudence flew low to the ground; the tips of her bare toes of her sandaled feet skimmed the dark grass. She smiled bashfully as she approached.

Sirius sat up and tossed the hair from his face. "You should try out for the Quidditch team."

Prudence vigorously shook her head. "I just like to fly," she said as she joined them upon the blanket. "I'm not much for Quidditch."

"Pity," he sighed and returned his head upon Althea's lap, "you're a natural, Pip."

_Just like your mother_, Althea thought as the broom rested against the grass. _I'd caught the Snitch and won the Quidditch Cup with that broom…beat Regulus to do it, too_. Now the broom, its faded wood with chips along the handle and the partially worn off gold lettering, was stored with the others—a dust-covered memory of Althea's past. _Then he called me a Muckblood and Sirius and he had it out on the pitch_.

"Who decided to use brooms anyway?"

The three adults looked to one another. Afina shrugged.

"Well," Althea began as Prudence crossed her legs, "probably because a broomstick was so common. No Muggle would think twice about a broom in the house."

"Or seven," Sirius said, scratching his jaw.

"We're incredibly tidy," Althea replied and ruffled Sirius's hair.

"But, Muggles know," Prudence said with mild insistence.

"One of our more poorly kept secrets," she said and winked.

Prudence sighed—she was not comfortable with such an answer.

"I believe," Althea said, resting her arms behind her, "the Hogwarts library might have your answer."

Prudence shrugged.

"A totally unacceptable answer from a Hogwarts professor," Sirius said as he sat up.

Prudence's eyes widened slightly and Afina let out a laugh of surprise.

Althea frowned. "What would you know—"

"It's common sense, really," he explained and Althea fought to keep from rolling her eyes. "Think it through," he continued, "what would be easier to hide? A broom or a chair?"

Without hesitation Prudence answered, "A broom."

Sirius grinned. "Of course, a broom," he said, resting his arm upon his bent knee. "It's easier to hide a flying broom than it is to hide a flying chair because no Muggle would have ever thought to sit upon a broom."

Prudence chewed upon her bottom lip as she thought through Sirius's answer. "True, but—"

"Muggles do not believe brooms actually fly," he said, "it's all fiction to them. It's perfect—"

Althea interrupted, "But an illegal flying—"

"See," Sirius replied with a self-satisfied glance toward Althea, "no need for the library."

"You really should teach at Hogwarts," Althea teased.

Sirius wrinkled his nose and took a pear from the picnic basket before him. "Have you practiced any of those spells I taught you?" he asked and bit into the pear.

Prudence tucked a curl behind her ear. She nodded.

"Good." He took another bite and swallowed as he asked, "Why don't you show us?"

Prudence's eyes widened.

"Go on, then," he encouraged and nodded toward Althea.

Prudence vigorously shook her head.

Althea narrowed her eyes at Sirius. "You taught her naughty spells, didn't you?"

"I didn't teach her naughty spells," he said, intently staring at the half-eaten fruit. "Were those naughty spells that I taught you?"

Prudence hesitated as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Of course, not," he said and took a large bite of pear. "Show our Althea what you can do."

Prudence's expression bore a fair amount of dread. _What did he teach you_, she wondered as Prudence stood. Prudence looked toward her wand and gulped. Sirius held up his hand to shield his whispering from Althea. Afina laughed lowly. _You didn't_, she thought as Sirius covertly gestured to Prudence. _You wouldn't_—

"Right," Sirius laughed and savored his gaze at Althea, "show our Althea what you can do."

Prudence cleared her throat and pointed her wand toward Althea.

_Oh dear_.

"_Levicorpus_!"

There was a bright flash and Althea felt a strong tug at her ankle. She yelped with the sudden whoosh, and she quickly discovered herself upside down and suspended in the air. She frantically reached for and held the skirt of her pink dress against her bare legs as to protect what little modesty she had left. Sirius fell back upon the blanket, laughing loudly, while Afina covered her mouth to suppress her giggling. Prudence—her wand still pointed at Althea—looked slightly pleased and horrified at Althea's present situation.

"A little different than the spell Remus taught you," Sirius said, grinning.

Althea growled as she struggled to keep her skirt from falling. "This was such a favorite of yours—"

Sirius breathed happily. "How I missed this," he reminisced.

"I can see why," Afina said as she tilted her head on its side. "How old were you when you used this against Auntie?"

"Fourteen and fifteen," he answered, scratching the side of his face.

"Of course," Afina laughed as she looked up at the suspended Althea.

Althea sneered at Afina. "Counter-jinx, please," she insisted.

Prudence frowned. "Counter-jinx?"

Afina laughed lowly.

Althea's eyes widened. "He didn't teach you?"

Prudence shook her head.

Althea sighed. "Typical," she said and spun herself to look at Sirius. "Get me down, will you?"

"No worries, my love," Sirius said, and mimicked with his hand, as he spoke the counter-jinx, "_Liberacorpus_."

Prudence swallowed. "_Liberacorpus_!" she said with a flick of her wand.

Althea's back landed against the soft blanket covering the firm earth and she groaned. She winced as she sat up, massaging her back. It had been years since she was hoisted into the air by her ankles and the counter-jinx was just as jarring. _Of course, you'd teach her one of your favorites_, she thought as Sirius clapped Prudence upon the shoulder.

"Brilliant," Sirius said, beaming.

"I would," Althea said and kneaded her lower spine, "refrain from using such a jinx at Hogwarts."

"Why?" Sirius said, quickly facing her. "She executed it perfectly—"

"It's fallen out of fashion at Hogwarts," she said and leaned forward, "much like Snivellus."

Sirius nodded in recognition. "Don't use it in front of Snape, my darling."

Prudence wrinkled her nose. "I wasn't planning to," she said and gently bit her bottom lip. "I'm sorry."

"No worries," Althea replied, placing her hand upon Prudence's small hand.

Prudence's lips upturned into a weak smile.

Sirius tossed the uneaten bits of pear upon the grass. He stretched, arching his back, and surveyed the landscape. "I'm itching to duel," he said and sighed. "Haven't had a proper fight in ages."

"Be reasonable," Althea said, smoothing her skirt. "It's such a lovely—"

"Prudence?" he asked with a grin.

Prudence swallowed.

"It'll be brilliant," he said, leaning close to her. "You can show me all you've learned."

Prudence pale, looked to Althea.

"Sirius, really," she interceded, as Prudence looked upon her with a grateful, relieved expression, "is dueling the best way?"

"Yeah," Prudence agreed quietly.

Sirius shook his head as he stood. "Come on," he said, holding his hands out for Prudence. "I'll teach you a few things," he added with an eager smile. "I won't listen otherwise."

Prudence bit her bottom lip as she looked from Sirius to Althea.

Althea shrugged her shoulders and motioned for Prudence to come closer. Prudence cast a glance at Sirius—who had raised his eyebrow—before she crawled closer to Althea.

"He'll be ready for that last jinx," she whispered and saw out of her periphery, Sirius twirling his wand between his fingers. "I want you to shout, '_Infligo_' at him."

Prudence frowned slightly and opened her mouth to repeat the curse, but Althea quickly shushed her.

"No, no, don't say it," she whispered, her lips curving into a perceptible mischievous smirk. "Just point your wand at him and yell, '_Infligo_'—really mean it."

A small crease formed between Prudence's eyebrows. "What does it—"

"Be forceful," she said, holding her fist up.

Prudence nodded—she still looked unsure.

Althea smiled. "Go on," she encouraged.

Prudence stood and followed Sirius until they stopped a few yards away. He frowned thoughtfully, looked at his surroundings, and placed his hands upon his young daughter's shoulders to position her. He spoke softly, but encouragingly to her, a brief history of dueling and of the strict etiquette one is to follow. The expression upon Sirius's face was new and fascinating to Althea. It reminded her, vaguely, how her father spoke to her and Althea wondered if such a look was universal among fathers. No schoolteacher, not even Dumbledore himself, could recreate such a look—the contentedness of instructing one's child. Sirius smiled and clapped Prudence upon the shoulder as she intently stared up at him.

"After this, you can challenge all the awful idiots that bother you."

Prudence's grey eyes narrowed. "Romilda Vane."

Sirius head jolted back. "Romilda Vane?" he repeated.

Prudence sneered as she nodded.

Sirius made a face. "Eddie Vane had a daughter?" he said and turned toward Althea. "Althea, that enormous idiot, Eddie Vane, had a daughter!"

"Yes, shocking!"

Sirius turned toward Prudence and stuck out his tongue. "I really enjoyed hitting Bludgers at him."

Prudence gasped.

"What?" he said and smiled.

Prudence looked to Althea and Althea winked.

"Will you two duel already?" Afina groaned.

"He's stalling because he's a poor dueler," she teased and Sirius licked his lips. "Get on with it, Black!"

"Right," he said and winked at Althea.

"Is he really—?" Afina whispered.

Althea shook her head as the two bowed. "He'll miss on purpose," she said—Prudence and Sirius held their wands at the ready.

Afina laughed lowly as the two women edged closer upon the blanket toward the pair. _You deserve every bit of this_, she thought as she caught her breath in anticipation. _Teaching her such awful spells_. Sirius was the first to cast his spell—and like Althea predicted—the Impediment Jinx soared at least two feet over Prudence's head. Prudence countered with the curse Althea taught her—a bright blue jet of light burst from Prudence's wand, causing her to take two steps back. The jet of light hit Sirius squarely in the chest, and Sirius—his eyes wide with surprise—was propelled backward through the air and came to land with a great, loud splash in the lake. Afina, tightly clutching Althea's hand, fell forward and howled with laughter. Prudence—a mixture of fear and surprise—stared at the lake. It was a moment before Sirius surfaced, tossing the wet hair from his face.

Althea chuckled. "Oh God, don't tell me he's lost his wand," she said, observing a stunned Sirius exit the water—his soaked clothes clinging to his thin frame.

"Well done, Prudence!" Afina shouted cheerfully.

"Indeed!" Althea agreed and the two women clapped enthusiastically.

Prudence blushed. "I'm so sorry," she said as Sirius approached. "I—I didn't—I didn't mean to do that! I—"

Sirius clapped Prudence on the shoulder. "Well done, Prudence!" he said, grinning. "Well done!"

Prudence grinned as the two rejoined the women.

Sirius raised an eyebrow as he looked upon Althea.

Althea smiled sweetly.

"You really like that curse, don't you?" Sirius murmured as he sat next to Althea.

Althea pointed her wand at Sirius. "What?" she asked as she dried his hair. "It's standard spells taught the first year," she explained and winked at Prudence.

"Likely," he muttered and rested his hands behind him, surveying the landscape with an air of boredom.

"I'd like to see you both duel," Prudence said, looking at the couple hopefully.

Sirius lifted himself up and laughed quietly, scratching his jaw. Althea shook her head.

"Why not?" Afina asked as Prudence agreed. "I've only read about it."

"Me too."

Althea wrinkled her nose.

"I feel we're owed such a legendary display of skill and witchcraft," she continued, placing her arm around Prudence's shoulders. "Don't you?"

Prudence nodded.

Sirius slowly smiled as he mulled his answer. "I'm game," he said and looked to Althea.

Althea was hesitant as she looked upon the hopeful expressions of the three. "I'm not dressed properly," she said and Sirius made a grunt of derision. "I'm not—look," she continued and pointed to her sandals, "my clothes, really, it's not the best—"

"Please?" Prudence asked, her lips in a slight pout and her eyes bearing the same pleading expression—that mischievous glint—of a teenage Sirius, which could coax Althea to do almost anything.

"Please?" Sirius asked, bearing that same expression.

Althea felt that malleable feeling in her insides. She sighed, "Right."

Prudence and Afina cheered as Althea removed her large, floppy hat. Sirius winked at Althea and stood. He held out his hands for her. _This will not end well_, she thought, taking his hands. Prudence looked upon the couple with eager anticipation and a small knot developed in Althea's stomach. She didn't want to lose a duel before her daughter—even if it were a friendly duel and even if the person she was to duel was Prudence's father. She recognized the same feeling in Sirius as they walked a few yards a way from Prudence and Afina.

"Nothing particularly gruesome?"

Sirius faintly smirked as he twirled his wand between his fingers.

"Sirius," she insisted.

"Why take the fun out of it?" he said, and cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. Althea let out a small laugh at Sirius's arrogant demeanor. "Take this seriously, Morrigan," he continued as they met. "I wasn't about to keep cursing you with an assortment of Cheering Charms."

Althea narrowed her eyes. "What do you think I'll hit you with?" she teased, tightening her grip upon her wand.

Sirius's mouth contorted into humorous surprise. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't you dare bloody say it—"

"You're a weak witch, Morrigan," he whispered, standing exceptionally close.

Althea playfully narrowed her eyes. "Oh, it will be gruesome, Black," she whispered as the tip of Sirius's tongue lightly licked his top row of teeth as he slowly grinned. "Nothing will please me more than to see you flying through the air after I hit you with a curse."

"Likely," he whispered and gently tapped his wand against her nose.

"Would you stop snogging and _duel_ already!" Afina shouted, which caused Prudence to shriek with laughter.

Althea growled quietly. "Right," she said, "wands at the ready."

Prudence crawled closer upon the blanket toward the couple as Afina counted for them. Althea tightened her grip upon her wand and Sirius raised an eyebrow. _Right_, she thought, beginning the curse in her mind, _nothing particularly gruesome_. Afina gave the signal and simultaneous jets of let erupted from their prospective wands and the two had little time to duck. Althea gasped as the grass where she had stood was aflame. _What sort of spell was that_, she wondered and growled as she deflected another curse. Sirius's expression was one of pure exhilaration as the two sent a flurry of curses and counter-curses at each other.

"Having difficulty?" he shouted, his arm nothing more than a blur.

"Ha!" she cheered as her Shield Charm blocked his curse, but he was ready with another.

Althea gasped as a jet of gold light hit her squarely in the chest. Her raven locks shimmered to blonde. Sirius hesitated—an amused smile playing upon his lips.

"Blonde?" she sneered as a jet of purple light erupted from her wand. "You always fancied blondes!"

Sirius yelped, but the curse connected with his right ear—enlarging it to the size of a small dinner plate.

"An _Engorgement Charm_? That was low, Morrigan!"

"I was aiming for your fat head!" she said throwing up her wand to block his curse.

"Is that the best you can do?" he laughed, lowering his wand ever so slightly.

Althea sighed and sharply thrust her wand forward. "Idiot."

The amused look had not quite faded when the ball of blue light erupted around Sirius. Althea laughed with satisfaction as Sirius wildly hurtled once more toward the lake.

"NO!" Sirius yelled.

Althea gasped at the flash of light. Suddenly, she felt a violent tug from behind her navel and she let out a shriek of surprise as she found herself rushing through the air toward Sirius. The landscape became a blurred scene of earth and encroaching water. She closed her mouth as her shadow blocked the glimmer of sunlight upon the lake. Althea landed with a loud splash—her body quickly sank underneath the cool, murky water. She opened her eyes—observing the green hue of the water—and remembered the last time Sirius plunged her into water. _You just can't have me win, can you_? She pushed off the bottom of the lake, wincing at the cool thick mud, and swam to the surface. Treading water, she gasped for breath and wiped the wet blonde hair and tiny, slime-covered aquatic plants from her face.

Sirius was chuckling. "Still haven't defeated me."

Althea splashed him with a great wave of water.

His eyes grew wide. "Grindylow," he teased, pretending to be jerked underwater.

"Berk," she said as Sirius teasingly pulled at her dress. "Behave," she warned, suppressing a smile as she swatted his hand away.

"All right, Auntie?" Afina shouted as Sirius—using his enlarged ear—splashed Althea.

"Yes!" she replied and nodded toward the shore.

Sirius groaned, but nodded.

Prudence and Afina met the couple at the shore. Sirius helped Althea out of the lake and Afina giggled at the sight of them. _We look ridiculous_, she thought as she gingerly pulled at her wet, clinging dress. However, Prudence looked upon the couple with great appreciation.

"That was so fast!" she said as Sirius transformed Althea's hair to black.

"Loads of practice," Althea said as she held her wand to Sirius's ear.

"I'm a natural," he remarked and laughed as Althea frowned at him.

She entertained the idea of shrinking his fat head, too. "I reckon it's a draw."

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! Sorry that it's been ages since the last update. What is in store for Althea? The Parkers.

Xter: Thank you for your review. As to why Althea left Dunwell-she couldn't hand over Prudence once more. As to the "proof" that Arcturus had...you'll learn more about that. ;)


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Althea tugged at the sleeve of her pale pink suit. Was it a bit much? She looked up from her sleeve to her reflection in the gilded mirror that hung just outside the drawing room doors. She gulped. Her pale pink Chanel suit. She adjusted the three-strand pearl necklace so that the gold clasp fell against her nape. _We really should've met in London_, she thought as her eyes drifted to the ceiling fresco. _It's too much_. Althea's eyes fell upon the drawing room's closed white doors. She hesitated—the urge to return to her quarters overwhelming.

"Don't be a coward," she breathed, as she looked upon herself in the mirror once more. "What will they think of me?"

Althea's eyes lost their focus as she remembered that mid December night. The Parkers lived in a converted stone barn that was just as ancient as her cottage. She could smell the sweet wood smoke from the hearth as she flew toward the lit window to the far right. Althea waited for Mrs. Parker to leave before she entered Prudence's nursery. It was not a lavishly decorated room nor were the toys or walls charmed. It was charming, but Muggle—would Prudence know the difference? Althea remembered her sleeping daughter in the foreign cot; how Prudence did not cry as she gently lifted her into her arms. She could almost feel Prudence cling to her—her soft hair against Althea's cheek. Althea's fingertips found the cool wood of the side table. She leaned forward. _They would've hunted us and killed us_, she thought and swallowed. _Bellatrix wasn't in Azkaban, yet. I remember what she did to my Sirius at sixteen…the Longbottoms_.

"Right," she muttered, and pushed herself from the side table.

Althea's hand clasped the doors to the drawing room. She closed her eyes and sighed. _Come on, girl_. She opened her eyes as she opened the door, and winced at the bright sunlight. Althea stood in the doorway—her legs refused further movement. She clenched her hands into tight fists at her side—the Parkers sat upon the sofa with Gran sitting perpendicular to them in a chair, whose rigid, proud countenance seemed to have been replaced by discomfort and awkwardness. It had almost been thirteen years since she saw them last and the physical differences between the Parkers and her Prudence could not be more apparent. Whereas Prudence had inherited the effortless good looks of Sirius and Althea, the Parkers were rather plain. Mr. Parker, his grey hair clean and short, wore a sensible brown suit with a dark green tie. His wife wore a flowing full-length skirt of navy and a beige knit sweater—her thick, grey hair swept into a loose ponytail at the nape. They stood—Mrs. Parker was the first to walk to Althea—she was almost a foot shorter than Althea.

"Lady Northfield," she said and held out her hand for Althea.

Althea, her mouth uncomfortably dry, swallowed. She nodded as she took Mrs. Parker's hand—the silver bangles upon Mrs. Parker's wrist shook.

"Edwina," she said and nodded to her husband, "and of course, James."

Mr. Parker gave a curt nod. "How do you do?"

"Yes," she murmured, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows.

"Let us all sit," Gran said, and Althea felt small relief for she did not have to speak.

The four sat in awkward silence. Althea crossed her legs and tugged at her skirt. It was too short for such a meeting. What was she thinking?

Mr. Parker cleared his throat. "As we said," he began, speaking to Gran, "it was a great shock to know our Prudence—"

Althea felt a quick stab to her stomach. _My Prudence_.

"—our Prudence was here the entire week—"

Althea looked to Gran, who remained staring at her hands. She narrowed her eyes at her grandmother. What had Gran done? Had Gran lied to the Parkers and to the Rourkes? Was Prudence's stay at Northfield a plan of Gran's doing? Althea felt a swell of gratitude in her chest toward her grandmother's lie. _We were as it should be…if only for one week_.

"—and not with the Rourke family—"

"But we're happy she is safe," Mrs. Parker said and smiled at Althea.

"Thank you," Althea croaked and bit her bottom lip.

"You look well," Mrs. Parker said, sitting forward. "We've seen you in the papers."

"Oh," she breathed and cringed.

News of the World, she thought, _oh God, John Harrington and that damn Aston Martin_! She started to fret. They would have seen her latest exploits under the fold at the start of the week.

"Your charity work, of course," she said, folding her hands.

"Oh, oh, right," she murmured and tugged at her skirt.

"Mum!" Prudence shouted happily, and both women turned toward the door.

Prudence, in a frock created by Afina, grinned as she entered the drawing room—a somber Afina followed. Althea felt her stomach lurch—an unbearable nausea encompassed her abdomen—as Mrs. Parker hugged Prudence. Prudence pulled away and twirled for her to see her pink dress.

"Isn't it fantastic?" Prudence said, smoothing the skirt.

"Well, I—"

"Afina made it," she said, pulling Afina forward.

Afina forced a weak smile. "She is my muse."

"Lovely," Mr. Parker said, patting the cushion next to him for Prudence to sit.

Prudence threw herself upon the sofa and sighed happily. "I'll wear this on the train," she said, inspecting the intricate white embroidery. "Oh, will Romilda be jealous!"

"Prudence," Mr. Parker said with a quiet sternness.

"What?" she asked and smiled at Althea.

Althea forced her lips to upturn into a smile, but they did not.

Prudence frowned. "Where's Sirius?" she asked, and looked around the room. "He promised me—"

"Sirius?" Mrs. Parker asked, looking from her husband to Althea.

Prudence mouthed to Althea, "They don't know." She winked.

Althea swallowed—

"Yes," Gran said before Althea could speak, "Sirius."

A flush crept upon Althea's cheeks. It wasn't supposed to happen—

"I want him to meet them," Prudence said, sitting forward, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Oh," Mrs. Parker murmured and looked to her husband.

"Please?" Prudence asked.

"Yes," Gran said, lifting her chin to look into Althea's eyes, "it would be frightfully boring without him."

Althea's eyes widened slightly.

"Yes," Afina agreed. "We need a laugh."

"A laugh?" Althea repeated quietly. "Right, well—"

"Would you find him, please?" Gran asked, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"I—I think he's gone out—"

"Out?" Prudence questioned with a slight fretfulness in her voice. "But he—"

"A walk on the grounds," she explained and tugged at her skirt once more. "I'm sure he'll join us—"

"Now, perhaps?" insisted Gran.

The five looked to Althea. The expressions of Gran and Afina were somber, the Parkers held slight apprehension, and Prudence was hopeful.

"Right," she breathed. "I'll find him," she said and went to stand.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. A relaxed walk around the grounds with Prudence some yards ahead and Sirius coming upon the group during his walk—a happy coincidence—with a light conversation until Prudence was out of earshot was the plan. It was rehearsed: some refreshments offered, accepted, and the matter of Prudence's return to Hogwarts discussed. Althea's heels echoed across the corridor. _Why would Gran and Afina_, she wondered and shook her head. The thought that Gran would ask for Sirius was unsettling. The two strained to be civil, and Althea was certain that only Prudence's presence prevented a duel. Althea entered her quarters to see Sirius—his head bent with a half-empty glass of gin and tonic in his hands—sitting upon one of her overstuffed sofas. He was clean-shaven and handsomely dressed in a light grey suit, his collar unbuttoned and his blue tie in a crumpled heap upon the cushion next to him. He did not respond to her presence. _Brilliant_, she thought, _just brilliant_.

"Sirius, my love," she said and placed her hand upon his smooth cheek, "Prudence has asked for you."

Sirius did not look up—locks of shiny black hair hung before his dim eyes. "You're just going to let them take her?" he said, his voice weak, which caused her stomach to convulse.

"They're her parents."

Sirius looked up—his face full of anguish. "What are we?"

Althea blinked. Her eyes burned. "My love, don't do this," she said as Sirius removed her hand. He held it in his. "She asked for you," she continued and pressed her hand in his. "Please, come downstairs."

"Sirius?" Prudence asked.

Sirius's face softened at her voice.

"Please," Althea whispered, "for her."

Sirius nodded faintly. He stood, still holding Althea's hand, and guided the couple toward Prudence. They stopped before Prudence, who rose and fell on the balls of her feet—impatient and unaware of their sadness.

"They're here, then?" he asked, forcing a small smile.

Prudence nodded proudly.

"I'd like to meet them," he said, and Prudence grinned.

The couple followed a few steps behind their daughter. Sirius tightly held Althea's hand—his eyes unwavering from Prudence. They had been impulsive in their indulgence and reckless in their love for her. Despite those overtures, Prudence would return to her parents—as it should be. Sirius and Althea were fun and clever, exciting to the twelve-year-old girl. Prudence knew that they existed, and it was all that they could hope for. Sirius paused to secure the knot of his blue silk tie. Althea discretely eased her wand from her pocket and thought a Sobering Charm. Sirius's back straightened.

"Was that necessary?" he murmured.

"I don't want you to smell of drink," she whispered.

Sirius sneered at his reflection.

_It will return…that emptiness_, she thought, stepping through the large white doors into the drawing room. _The moment she's gone_. Gran remained sitting, but the Parkers stood. James placed his hand upon the small of Edwina's back as the couple stepped forward. Prudence, unaware of the tension, happily stopped between the couples—looking from Althea and Sirius to Edwina and James. Prudence's true identity could never have been more apparent.

"Mum, Dad," Prudence said and pointed toward him, "Sirius."

_Please, don't do anything stupid_, she prayed as James left Edwina's side to greet Sirius. He gave a terse nod shaking Sirius's hand. Sirius, however, did not exhibit any of the moodiness of prior as he took James's hand. Instead, he grinned taking James's hand and clapped his shoulder. Althea raised an eyebrow.

"And you are?" he asked, offering his hand to Mrs. Parker.

"Edwina," she said, taking it.

"Sirius," he said, "very good to meet you."

Edwina and James shared a look. Althea inhaled and smiled. _Charm her knickers off, Black_, she thought as Sirius showed interest in Mrs. Parker's fantasy writing. _Anything it takes_. Althea wasn't alone. Prudence sat between Edwina and James, and Sirius slipped his arm around Althea's shoulders. He eyed the Parkers with a casual air of arrogance.

"Comfortable?" he asked, stroking Althea's shoulder.

"Yes, very," Edwina murmured, "thank you."

"Right," he sighed. "No troubles in your travel, I hope?"

"Uneventful," James answered. "Little traffic."

"Good…good," he said distantly, his fingers occupied by her shoulder seam. "What do you think of Hogwarts?"

Althea felt her stomach sink.

James frowned slightly.

Edwina shrugged. "Lovely, I suppose."

"Lovely?" Sirius repeated and wrinkled his nose. "It's fantastic. Isn't it, Pip?"

"Pip?" James murmured, the crease deepening between his eyebrows.

Prudence nodded vigorously. "I love it," she replied, sitting forward. "Charms and Transfiguration, History of Magic—_actual_ _goblins_, Mum, not just the sort you write about—and Potions…" she continued and pulled a face. "But I don't enjoy the last one as much, my hair smells awful after class," she added with a flick of her hair.

"Potions?" Edwina repeated.

"Sort of like Chemistry," Althea replied.

"I see," Edwina murmured, "and that was the reason you needed that cauldron—cauldron, is it?"

Prudence nodded. "Oh," she gasped, looking from Edwina to James, "you don't have to take me to Diagon Alley this year. They took me."

Edwina paled. "They did?"

Althea shifted uncomfortably. "We were in London, and—"

"I got an owl!"

"An owl?" Edwina asked, looking toward Althea.

Althea looked away and swallowed.

"How would she write to you?" Sirius said. "School owls can be so unreliable."

"Indeed," Afina said and sniffed. "Hope you didn't mind."

"Indeed, they shouldn't," Gran said, "for now they can send proper care packages—sweets, letters from home—my Danny and Althea looked so forward to them—"

"She never sent you a care package," Sirius laughingly whispered into Althea's ear.

"Just let her lie," she whispered back and feigned a smile at the Parkers.

"That really wasn't necessary," James began and reached for his wallet. "How much—"

Sirius shook his head. "I'd do anything for her," he said and smiled at Prudence. "She truly belongs at Hogwarts."

"Right—yes—well—"

Sirius slipped his hand from out behind Althea's shoulders. "Have you seen her perform magic?" he asked, leaning forward.

The Parkers shook their heads.

Sirius jerked his head back. "What?" he asked, looking from them to Althea and back again. "She's brilliant—"

"I'm sure our Prudence is," James began to say, "but—"

Sirius looked directly at Prudence. "Would you like to show them?" he encouraged quietly.

Prudence's smile matched Sirius's as she nodded. _They had this planned_, she thought. How could the Parkers reject Hogwarts once they witnessed Prudence's magic? _Nothing naughty, I hope_. Sirius looked about the room, and Prudence quickly pulled her wand from her dress pocket. _We're not about to duel in the drawing room_.

Sirius rubbed his hands together. "Right, what would our dear Prudence…" he began to murmur and snapped his fingers. "Levitate that ghastly vase—"

"It is not ghastly," Gran interrupted, "it is over two hundred years old."

"Right, levitate that ghastly _two hundred year old_ vase to this very spot," he said, jabbing his forefinger against the table before them.

Prudence nodded lifting her wand, but Edwina placed her hand upon Prudence's outstretched arm. "How about something smaller, perhaps?"

Prudence's eyes and lips narrowed. "I _can_ do it," she said, shaking off Edwina's hand.

Sirius smiled. "I have full faith in you."

Althea looked to Gran. Gran nodded.

"Go on, Prudence," Althea encouraged.

Prudence inhaled deeply as she lifted her wand. She said the incantation in a clear voice—the Parkers' eyes widened—the porcelain vase with sweeping patterns of dark blue flowers wiggled up from the table between the long windows. Their eyes were locked upon it; the vase slowly bobbed its way toward the group with Sirius giving little gasps and noises of encouragement.

"Bloody hell," James breathed and Edwina made a noise of disapproval. "You—you're doing this?"

"Don't break her concentration, James," Edwina scolded.

The garish fragile vase came to rest before them, and Prudence inhaled with satisfaction. Sirius, Althea, Gran, and Afina erupted with applause—with Sirius the most enthusiastic. The Parkers stared at the vase, quiet and wide-eyed.

"Well done, Prudence," Althea said—Prudence looked rather pleased with herself. She felt her confidence returning at the Parkers' amazement. "Exceptional magic for a girl about to begin her second year."

Sirius leaned forward. "Ah, but she's not finished," he said and slipped his hand into the breast pocket of his grey jacket. He removed a small object and tossed it upon the table before them. The large black button spun upon the smooth surface. As it teetered to a stop, Sirius said, "Transfigure it into a beetle."

"A beetle?" James replied.

"Yes, a beetle," Althea answered, feeling Sirius smile next to her. "Go on, do as our Sirius taught you."

Prudence pointed her wand at the button. Her brow furrowed with concentration, she tapped the tip of her wand against the button. Althea bit her lip in anticipation. _Go on, my little one_. Prudence murmured the sequence of incantations—she would definitely impress McGonagall to render points to Gryffindor. Suddenly, six thin legs sprouted from the button, followed by antennae, and then, the round black button began to elongate into the shape of a beetle. The Parkers gasped as the beetle crawled around the table. Prudence, grinning, looked up from the beetle to Sirius and Althea. Althea slipped her hand underneath Sirius's and felt him press it. _Your father and I competed to see who could perfect that spell the quickest_, she thought as the Parkers—silent—continued to watch the beetle's movements. _I won, of course_.

"Well done," Althea said, "and now, transfigure it back."

Prudence looked at the crawling beetle.

"Here," Sirius said and flicked his wand at the beetle, "_Stupefy_."

The jet of light connected with the beetle and caused it to leap a few inches from the table before it rested upon it, still. The Parkers jumped slightly.

"A bit much," Althea whispered.

Prudence, with the same concentration, transfigured the beetle back to the button. Sirius nudged Althea as he clapped with increased enthusiasm.

"You must be exceptionally proud of her," Sirius said, clapping.

"Yes," Edwina said, staring at the button, "we are."

"That's not all I can do!" Prudence said, looking from James to Edwina. "I can do loads of other charms and spells…I can even ride a broom!"

"A broom?" Edwina replied.

Prudence nodded. "Althea let me ride a broom."

Edwina wrinkled her brow. "Is that safe?"

Sirius let out a quiet laugh. "Of course, it is—"

"She had lessons at Hogwarts," Althea interrupted, leaning forward with a placating smile. "All the children do. She's a natural."

"You're joking," James murmured. "A broom, Prudence? Come now."

Prudence quickly turned toward James. "I'm not!" she said, her look indignant. "I can ride a broom."

Sirius's face bore the same expression as Prudence.

"Sirius, please," Althea whispered through her faltering smile, "_don't_."

Sirius shook his head. "She's levitated the vase, transfigured a button, and a flying broom is _too_ preposterous?" he asked, letting go of Althea's hand. "An owl is silly to you—"

Althea's eyes caught sight of Gran. With her hands folded in her lap, she seemed to be…_smiling_. Althea raised an eyebrow.

"It's just a bit…_cliché_, that's all," James replied, folding his arms.

"Oh, _cliché_," Sirius said and let out a quiet laugh of spite.

"Prudence," Althea said, "why don't you and Afina fly about the grounds."

Prudence brightened.

"Brilliant," Afina said and went to stand. "I fancy a fly about the lake."

Edwina swallowed. "Excellent idea," she said, gently encouraging Prudence to stand. "Go ahead, we'll watch you fly in a bit." She let out a small laugh. "I never thought I'd utter that…watch my daughter fly about on a broom."

"She is a witch," Gran said. "It is to be expected."

"Gran," Althea said, smoothing her skirt, "why don't you join them?"

Gran briefly narrowed her eyes at Althea. "If you insist," she said and stood. "If you need me."

"Right," Althea breathed and nodded at her grandmother.

The Parkers stood as well. Once the three left the drawing room, the four sat in an uneasy silence. Sirius, still brooding from James's comments about magic, did not respond to Althea's touch when she rested her hand upon his thigh. _You were just as skeptical about the mobile phone_, she thought and patted Sirius's thigh. _Sophie couldn't stop laughing when you shouted into the damn thing…never mind when you discovered MTV—I thought you were going to Apparate to that beach house_.

"Your friend, Mr. Lupin, visited us yesterday," Edwina said, wringing her hands in her lap.

"Oh God, he showed them the scar," Sirius whispered teasingly.

Althea frowned at him. "You understand the importance of Prudence returning to Hogwarts, then?"

James shook his head. "She isn't returning to that school."

Sirius sat forward and Althea grabbed his arm.

"We let her attend for one year," he said, stiffening. "We weren't impressed with the course of study—"

"Weren't impressed?" Sirius replied, shaking off Althea's grip. "Hogwarts—"

"Won't prepare her for university," James finished, narrowing his eyes at Sirius.

"Sirius," Althea warned. She inhaled deeply as she looked upon the Parkers. "Hogwarts will prepare Prudence for a full life," she explained, her stomach trembling. "There are, I dare say, countless careers with a basis in magic…the Healing Arts, Magizoology, journalism, teaching…loads more."

The Parkers appeared unconvinced.

"Architecture, music, theater…all those shops in Diagon Alley owned by witches and wizards," Sirius began and added in a whisper, "but all that seems silly to you."

"She is exceptionally clever and will, no doubt, excel in anything," Althea spoke over Sirius. "You have to give her that chance."

Edwina cleared her throat. "Hogwarts isn't safe," she said quietly.

Althea's stomach sank.

"What we learned," she continued, her brow furrowed, "we're hesitant to send her back."

Althea exhaled a shaky breath

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Edwina continued, "Her safety is of the utmost importance—we have to agree…the monster that attacked those children, Sirius breaking into Hogwarts, those beings that would suck out one's soul—"

"The dementors are gone," Sirius said with anxiousness in his voice. "They won't return—"

"You brought them to Hogwarts," Edwina replied.

"That is very unfair," Althea said, her heart beating quickly against her chest. "It was a Ministry decision—"

"But, he," Edwina continued, pointing to Sirius, "broke in multiple times."

"I would _never _harm her," Sirius said with urgency, rising in his seat. "I would never harm any of them!"

Edwina inhaled deeply through her nostrils as she eyed Sirius. "Never consciously, no," she said, and James placed his hand upon Edwina's forearm. "You never consciously harm her."

"How dare you?" Sirius growled through gritted teeth.

"I had tea with Mrs. Rourke—"

"Oh God," Althea murmured.

"I was truly surprised that the Rourkes would allow their Genevieve to return," she said, crossing her legs at the knee. "But there is a great difference between her family and ours…we do not have magic."

"Your lot torturing that family—"

Althea and Sirius both spoke:

"We would never—"

"Don't you ever accuse _me_ of torturing Muggles! I fought—"

"That is a damning accusation!"

"—to keep that lot from murdering _you_!"

Edwina blinked.

Sirius tossed the hair from his eyes. "She belongs at Hogwarts," he said, leaning back upon the sofa. "She's a brilliant witch."

"We don't deny that—"

"Why deny her Hogwarts, then?" Sirius asked. "Ridiculous…she must learn to defend herself—"

"My daughter will not be a soldier," Edwina said, her voice waspish.

Sirius's eyes widened. "Your daughter?"

Althea grabbed his thigh.

Sirius quickly turned toward Althea. "No more pleasantries," he sneered, his face pale. "She is a Black."

Althea's grip tightened. "Don't, I beg you," she said in barely a whisper. "Don't invoke that law."

Sirius did not answer Althea, but exclaimed, "Althea has written you, begged you, and you've rejected her!"

James's eyes narrowed. "I think we know what is best."

"No, you don't," Sirius said, the disgust in his voice palpable.

James sat forward, but Edwina stopped him.

"You would endanger our Prudence?" he asked, his eyes wildly looking from James to Edwina. "In the war, they hunted and murdered Muggles. She doesn't have the means to protect herself or her family—"

"The war is over," James said through gritted teeth, "but you were in prison—"

"_James_!" Edwina admonished.

Sirius's anger did not falter. "You have an obligation to Prudence to protect her. You have an obligation to Althea."

Althea's eyes widened. _Sirius, no_, she thought—her stomach somersaulted at the broken conversation.

Sirius took her hand. "Althea won't say any of this because she loves Prudence so much," he said, massaging Althea's hand. "You know the circumstances surrounding Prudence's birth—"

The Parkers remained silent.

"We love Prudence, and when I discovered what Althea did to protect her—my God—I don't know how many mothers would go to that great a length to protect their children," he said and looked into Althea's eyes. Sirius's haunted, grey eyes did not betray the passion of his words, but Althea felt it. She tenderly pressed Sirius's hand. "To be separated from her child…just so she might have a chance…my Althea has lived with this decision for almost thirteen years," he said and swallowed. "She's all we'll have," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "We won't have more children…we can't."

Althea covered her face with her hands.

"The night before Prudence was born," he said and Althea murmured for Sirius to stop, "my Althea was tortured by those Death Eaters you thought to lump us with. It was a miracle that Althea—Prudence—lived."

Althea lowered her hands and crossed her arms before her. She slowly looked up at the Parkers, who looked upon Althea with mixture of sadness and horror.

"She didn't tell you this? Dumbledore didn't tell you this?" he asked, placing his hand upon Althea's bare knee. "You just thought Althea didn't want a child of a mass murderer—"

"Sirius, please!" Althea said, slamming her fists upon the sofa. "We have to find common ground, but we have no right—" The foul, caustic liquid rose in her throat as she continued, "they're her parents. They are the ones who determine what is best for her…just as I had done when she was a baby."

"Althea," Sirius said in a quiet, warning tone.

Althea ignored Sirius. "I beg you to reconsider," she pleaded, sitting forward—her expression earnest. "As Muggle Studies professor, I have—when asked by Dumbledore—visited the homes of Muggle-borns to help transition them before Hogwarts. I have seen this apprehension and I've seen flat out denial of these children to attend Hogwarts. In those instances, a magical tutor can be provided. My dear friend, Sophie Applewood-Carter—you might know her from television—"

The Parkers registered recognition of Sophie's name. Althea felt relief—she could convince them.

"—has a nephew, Freddie, who just happens to be magical as well. He does not attend Hogwarts, but receives lessons from a tutor," she explained, feeling a small twinge of hope. She felt the confidence build within her. "This can be easily arranged, and I can provide for these lessons," she said, staring into Edwina's large brown eyes. "You do remember our agreement?"

Edwina diverted her eyes toward the ceiling.

Althea frowned. "You could've asked any of the professors at Hogwarts who was one of the strongest—if not the strongest student—of the first year class, and it would have been Prudence, without hesitation. She is quick, highly intelligent, and immensely talented in magic. To deny her the opportunity to cultivate that ability is dangerous," she said and licked her lips. "Hasn't the odd light bulb burst or other strange occurrences happen when Prudence is very upset?"

Edwina faintly nodded.

"It won't improve, it will only get worse as she ages. She needs to learn control of that ability."

James and Edwina looked to one another.

"She has friends," she continued. "Would you keep her from them as well? Keep her from Genevieve?"

The Parkers were silent.

Sirius sighed, "My love—"

Althea held up her hand. "Are you worried Prudence will discover the truth? That, because Sirius and I are together, that I'm at Hogwarts, that we'll take her from you?"

James shifted upon the sofa.

Althea sighed heavily. "I was desperate. I'd lost my friends, my Sirius, and my child. I wasn't…" she said and gently bit her bottom lip, "what I am now." Sirius placed his hand upon the small of her back. "I'd never make Prudence choose. It would be cruel and wrong. You are the only parents she has ever known." Sirius hand retracted briefly. "What are most important are Prudence's happiness and safety—as they have always been. She has to feel and know that she's not a freak…that she's a talented witch and there's nothing wrong with her—"

James stood. "It is time for us to leave," he said and sniffed. "Thank you," he added and offered his hand to a solemn Edwina.

Althea's heart sank; the feeling of confidence quickly crumbled away from her. The room began to spin. Panic filled her chest. She grasped at the sofa cushion. _Do something_, she thought, aware of the wand in her pocket. _Obliviate them. Confund them. Don't let them take her_!

"No," she said, barely audible. "No."

Sirius's expression was dark. "To hell with it!" he growled and leapt to his feet. "I named her!" he shouted—his voice tinged with panic—slapping his hand against his chest. "And you," he sneered, pointing his thin finger at James. James gulped. "You have the arrogance to call The Beatles derivative?" Sirius took a step—his shin slammed into the table, which caused the vase to topple over. "Is that what you think of her? Do you?" Edwina grabbed James's arm. "I named her—_I_ named her after that song! I sang it to her and she reached for me," he said, holding up his hand. Althea felt the sob caught in her throat. "I felt her hand—" Sirius went quiet.

"Let's go, James," Edwina said, refusing to look at Althea or Sirius. "Let's go."

* * *

James grunted as he lifted Prudence's trunk into the car. Neither Althea nor Sirius bothered to help with a Lightening Charm. _You've failed her_, she thought and sighed heavily—the emptiness she felt prior to Prudence's arrival began to return. Althea tilted her head back and her eyes focused upon the clear early afternoon sky. It was the perfect sky for flying.

"Why can't I take her?" Prudence asked. "She's mine. Sirius gave her to me."

Althea heard Edwina sigh and she directed her attention toward the pair.

Edwina's expression bore uneasy thoughtfulness. "I'm sorry, Prudence," she said, "we just can't. You have Violet, and don't forget your guinea pigs."

Prudence's shoulders sank and Bedelia's cage scraped the ground. Althea took a small step sideways—the hair upon her arm stood on end being so close to Sirius. Her step baring her dejection, Prudence walked toward Althea and Sirius. She carefully placed the cage before them.

"I can't take her," she said quietly.

Althea placed her hand upon Prudence's shoulder. She inhaled a shallow breath—memorizing the feel of her daughter. "I'll send her to you," she said, forcing a weak smile. "You have all your things? Your books, parchment, quills?"

Prudence nodded.

Althea gave a furtive look at Edwina, who had turned to help James. She took a step forward and leaned close to Prudence. "You're welcome any time here, at Northfield," she said, staring into her daughter's large grey eyes. "Any time."

Prudence nodded.

"And I'll know from our Althea how you're doing in school," he said as he rested his hand upon Prudence's other shoulder. "I'll expect nothing but the highest marks from you."

Prudence frowned, chewing her bottom lip. "Where's Snuffles?"

"Oh," he replied softly and gently squeezed her shoulder, "I reckon he's lounging about somewhere. I'll find him."

Sirius quickly jogged toward the entrance doorway and shouted for Snuffles. Prudence peered around Althea and grinned. Sirius, in his pleasing Animagus shape, bounded at full speed toward the pair. He stopped before Prudence, his tail wagging wildly.

Prudence bent to meet Snuffles. "Bye, you silly dog," she cooed, scratching under his chin. "I'll miss you, dreadfully."

Sirius began a mournful whimper.

Prudence quickly looked up at Althea. "Will you take him to Hogwarts?"

Althea gently chewed her bottom lip, mulling her answer. "I might," she said as Sirius's whimpering grew louder. "He can be very naughty, though. Snuffles, _please_."

"Pru_dence_!" James called.

Prudence stood and sighed.

Althea attempted her warmest smile. _Don't let her go_, she thought, watching Prudence walk toward the car. _Stop her_! However, Althea's feet remained firmly rooted the ground. Her daughter was leaving Northfield for an uncertain future. Would she be at Hogwarts September first? Or would Prudence be subjected to that foul Juliana Turpin, who teased Prudence as a freak? Prudence was still in the beginnings of controlling her magic, and magic against Muggles was a seriously punishable offense. Prudence had inherited the fierceness of her parents and their recklessness. Would Prudence be able to control her magic? _Azkaban isn't sixth form for our family_, she thought, and shivered at the thought of Prudence on trial before the Wizengamot.

Just prior to entering the car, Prudence turned toward Althea and waved a goodbye. Althea was only able to nod. _You're a coward, Morrigan_. Feeling the disgust build in her stomach, she swallowed as Prudence closed the car door. She felt Sirius transform next to her.

Sirius's fingers slowly intertwined with her fingers. "Give me one good reason I'm not chasing after that car," he said as James started the car.

The blue car slowly crept away from them. "Because her happiness means everything."

"She isn't going back to Hogwarts. She isn't going to be happy," he said as the two watched the car travel further away from them. "You might've consented to give her to the Parkers, but I didn't…and I don't."

Althea took in a sharp breath. "Don't you dare, Sirius," she said, tightening her grip on Sirius's hand. The blue car was barely visible now. "I'll never forgive you."

"How can you?"

"I have faith they'll do the right thing," she said, her own voice unsure. "Prudence will be on the train to Hogwarts."

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! Thank you so much for all the comments I have received. What is in store for Althea? A dismal dinner.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

The bite of roast had been chewed to a dull, tasteless wad. Althea forced herself to swallow. Her eyes drifted up from her full plate of cooled beef and vegetables to Sirius, who numbly sat before her with his knife and fork in his hands. She was unsure if he had lifted them in the last five minutes. His eyes were fixed upon his plate. September first. In two days, Althea would know if the Parkers would keep the promise made almost thirteen years ago. _She could go_, she thought, placing her fork upon the plate, _if we enforced that law_. As the brown gravy congealed upon her plate, Althea considered that law that was once almost used against her. It would secure Prudence's future at Hogwarts…but at what cost? _I won't allow what happened to me, happen again_, she thought, looking toward the empty seat at the table. It was an unbearably quiet dinner—the absence of Prudence's enthusiasm and laughter never more apparent.

Afina threw her head back and sighed. "This is so bloody boring," she said, and Gran did not correct her. "I want her back."

"We can't," Althea whispered, her gaze purposefully avoiding Sirius.

"Couldn't we just use Memory Charms on her family?"

"_No_," Althea said emphatically.

Sirius stood from the table and threw his napkin upon his chair. He did not say a word as he exited the room. Althea rested her elbows upon the table and brought her trembling hands to her face.

Althea heard the shuffling of a chair to her right. "Althea Rosemary, I will return late," Gran said. "I have a meeting in the village tonight."

Althea shrugged.

Althea did not linger in the somber dining room or the oppressive Northfield. Guided by the low, late evening sun, Althea walked the gravel path toward her cottage. Her footsteps, unhurried, she concentrated upon the grey pebbles and rocks encountered along the winding path—the thick green grasses and brush a blur. _What will you do if Prudence isn't at the Welcoming Feast_, she wondered and growled at her weakness. _She isn't a Squib. She isn't a Muggle. She's a witch—a clever witch—and she could end up in loads of trouble_. Althea remembered the night her father told her of magic and Hogwarts. She rubbed her fingertips at the thought of Sirius—that electrical jolt she felt—whenever he was angry. That loathsome Juliana Turpin would be hexed without a wand and there was little Prudence could do to control it. _What will you do to protect h_er?

"Ideological high road," she muttered as the cottage came into view—the door was open.

A sick feeling strangled Althea's stomach as she advanced upon the cottage overrun with weeds and overgrown bushes. It was to be their home. Sirius, Althea, and their Prudence. She hesitated at the gate. In disrepair and forgotten, the cottage now stood—but what was the use? She would never have what she wanted—what she imagined for herself on those nights when Sirius was out on patrol—a proper family, a family she had briefly as a little girl. She sighed and pulled at the peeling wood of the gate. Suddenly, she heard Sirius growl and something loudly crashed against the floor or wall. She inhaled a ragged breath and pushed the gate open. Sirius could destroy her cottage…she might actually join him in the endeavor.

It had been at least ten years since Althea had entered the cottage last. With deliberate neglect, she hoped the small cottage would have collapsed upon itself and her garden—now untamed—would reclaim it. Unfortunately, magic and Muggle craftsmanship subverted her desire. Thick dust covered the furniture and floors, which created tiny plumes of dust with each footstep. She heard movement to her left ahead of her and knew by the opened door that Sirius was in the nursery.

_They refused all of it_, she thought, stopping in the nursery doorway. _I should've known then_. The toys, long since donated to charity, left an empty shell of cupboards and furniture. The once vibrant mural was faded and the magic that once charmed the birds to fly and the rabbits to hop about, stood silent. Althea leaned against the doorway and massaged her arms. Sirius stood with his hands resting upon the dilapidated cot—the once crisp white netting now rotted and in a clump upon the mattress. She stepped over his crumpled suit jacket and fiercely bit her bottom lip at the expression upon Sirius's face. It was the expression she had imagined as he called out for her that night, when he looked upon their friends' broken bodies, when he thought all was lost. Thick tears coursed along Sirius's once handsome face and splashed upon the railing of the cot, creating perfect circles.

"It won't ever go away," she croaked and cleared her throat. "That feeling. It's a thousand times worse than the Cruciatus Curse."

Sirius didn't bother to wipe the tears away.

Althea stopped before the cot. "I'm so sorry, Sirius. I'm so sorry for what I've done."

Sirius refused to look at Althea.

She inhaled a sharp breath. "I know you want to go after her," she began and went to touch him, but thought better of it. "I made my choice, what I thought was best…for both of us. With your mother at my door and the news of the Longbottoms tortured by your cousin, I did—what at the time I thought was—the right decision." She remembered watching Prudence as she slept in the cot from that very spot. "I regretted it the moment I gave her to Mrs. Parker…I couldn't right my mistake. It was done."

His long, thin fingers tightened themselves about the railing.

"And I _prayed_ our daughter would remember something about me."

Sirius, not looking at Althea, whispered, "She does."

Althea's throat was painfully tight as she swallowed. "I wasn't sure what kind of father you'd be," she said as Sirius's jaw stiffened. "You were so young."

"I wasn't ready," he muttered, his fingertips stroked the railing. "I wasn't James. I just…I didn't want—"

"You never faced Voldemort before and you barely escaped with your life," she said, stepping closer to him. "I'd never seen you like that. I loved you so much that I'd do anything for you." She placed her hand over his. "I'd still do, but now…you are ready."

She thought she witnessed acknowledgement flicker across his face. _It was my decision_. Althea closed her eyes for courage. _Mine, alone_.

She opened her eyes. "Don't feel obligated to stay."

Sirius pushed himself away from the cot. "Don't you dare say that to me."

"When your name is cleared—"

"_No_—"

"That box Arcturus—"

"That box?" he snorted and shook his head with a bitter, knowing laugh. "A letter from the Minister? That is by no means proof—"

"He recognized your innocence!"

"The Muggles' minds were Obliviated," he said through gritted teeth. "I need Peter."

Althea sighed. "It doesn't matter, my love," she said and reached for him. "You deserve to be a proper father," she added, placing her hand upon his cheek. "Once your name is cleared, I'll understand."

"No."

"I'll understand—"

"No!" he growled, taking hold of her shoulders.

Althea gasped.

"No, Althea!" he said, shaking her slightly. "Why do you think that? Why do you think I'll love you any less?" he asked, his wet, grey eyes earnestly searching her face.

"I overheard you in Bermuda," she began weakly, lowering her head, "what wizard would want me?"

"_I_ _want you_," he said slowly and deliberately, his fingers painfully kneading her skin. "Why do you doubt—"

"You were so happy, and I can't—I can't give that to you," she said, and lifted her face—Sirius's features was furrowed with concern. "She's gone…and look at us…we'll never be happy or whole. If we weren't…you could have that chance."

"Listen to me," he began—his voice filled with a gentleness she thought it had lost, "I live with the fact knowing all the heartache in your life was caused by me. If I hadn't trusted—" He swallowed hard as Althea started to tremble. "Knowing you both are alive, and know that I am innocent, is all I could hope for because for twelve years I believed the alternative."

Althea collapsed against Sirius. "I miss her!" she sobbed, burying her face against his shoulder. "I—I don't c-care if she ever kn-knows! I wa-want her at Hogwarts!" she forced herself to say. "I'd just be happy looking at her!"

Sirius sighed mournfully and held her tighter to him.

She sniffed loudly. "I know they don't have a right to her, but I can't do that to them! I can't do what was done to me!" she said, her fingers intertwining with the fabric of his sleeves. "But you…you!" With all her strength she pushed away from him. She roughly wiped her face. "Take her. Just go. I'll take care of the Parkers," she said quickly, her mind growing dizzy. "Go to America—somewhere—"

Sirius wrinkled his face in bewilderment.

"Do as my father had done," she said, fighting new tears. "I had a good life, a happy childhood. Do what I should've done."

Sirius shook his head. "No," he said soothingly as he took Althea into his arms. "No."

"_Please_," she begged.

Sirius pulled away from Althea. "I can't do that," he whispered and perched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "But what I can do, what I promise you, if Prudence isn't at the Welcoming Feast, I will bring her to Hogwarts," he said and let go of her chin. His thumb lightly stroked her moistened cheek. "They can't touch her at Hogwarts."

A small feeling of hope leapt in her chest.

Sirius rested his forehead against hers. "They don't ever have to know," he said, his hand slipping to the back of her head.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Always," he whispered and placed his parted lips to hers.

The fervor at which Sirius kissed her, Althea knew he would keep his vow. Prudence would be at Hogwarts, and Sirius would bring Prudence to her. Althea pulled away from Sirius and lightly licked her lips.

"It needs work," he said, his eyes looking about the room, "but I reckon I can manage."

"What? The cottage?"

"Yeah," he said, his fingertips gliding up and down her arms, "I'm not about to spend my days in Northfield with your dear, loving Gran."

"Of course, not," she said, smoothing his blue tie. "Oh, but couldn't we purchase a place of our own? Some place we could fill with happy memories, perhaps?"

Sirius wrinkled his nose at the idea. "It'll give me something to do—maybe Moony could help—"

"Remus is useless with home repair," she said and adjusted Sirius's collar. "You really want to live here, then?"

Sirius nodded. "It's our home," he said and took her hands in his. "Let's not go back."

"Spend the night?"

"Yeah," he said and pulled her toward the doorway. "Come on."

Althea followed Sirius through the small, unlit hallway toward their bedroom. Sirius winked and pushed open the door. He winced as the door creaked open.

"Bloody thing as loud as ever," he said as he guided Althea into the room.

"As if Death Eaters would bother with the door," she remarked as Sirius walked to the center of the room.

The room was as Althea left it. The once cheerful and inviting room was reduced to depressing grime. She eyed the bed—with its torn duvet—a bed she could not sleep in after Sirius's capture. She justified her refusal quite simply. It was difficult to sleep in a bed that she was lied to night after night. However, Sirius never lied to her. He was never a Death Eater and he did not trade her life for the Potters. He was an innocent man betrayed. Althea grasped her wand from her dress pocket and muttered three Cleaning Charms in succession at the bed. It wasn't spotless, but it would do. She reached behind her back and slowly unzipped her dress.

Sirius raised an eyebrow as the blue silk dress fell from her shoulders.

"It's been a week, Black," she said, slipping the dress from her hips.

"Has it?" he asked and cleared his throat. "Are you sure?"

Althea nodded, slowly easing out the knot of his tie. "One hundred and thirteen rooms, the ability to perform complex Silencing Charms," she said, leisurely unbuttoning his shirt, "and you're worried she could discover the position in which she was conceived."

A mischievous smile played across his lips. "Ah, lovely," he whispered and Althea caught her breath at the touch of his fingertips against her bare skin, "you know it in was the California Spyder above Bristol."

* * *

The late morning sun cascaded through the cheerful stained glass windows at which Althea opened her eyes and brought her hand to her face. Realizing that she was not in her Northfield quarters, she quickly sat up—anxious at her unfamiliar surroundings. It took her a moment before her eyes adjusted to their cottage bedroom. She lifted her arms above her head and moaned with pleasure at the stretch of her spine. She smiled at the sight of Sirius at the foot of their bed.

Althea crawled to him and slipped her arms around his neck. "Morning," she whispered and kissed his unshaven cheek. Sirius held a worn manila envelope in his hands. Her eyes widened. "Where'd you get that?"

"The cupboard," he answered and turned over the envelope. "Is it important?"

Althea nodded. "It's Prudence."

"Prudence?"

Althea let go of Sirius. "I hired a private investigator because I couldn't find her," she said and Sirius followed her to the center of the bed. "Dumbledore charmed—I don't know how—I couldn't see her. So many photographs and I couldn't see her."

Sirius looked to the envelope in his hands. "Do you think?"

"Open it," she demanded and bit her bottom lip.

Sirius eagerly tore open the envelope and peered inside. He smiled as he pulled out a photograph. "Just like her father," he said and turned the photograph toward Althea.

Althea gasped and covered her mouth. Prudence, in a ruffled pink dress and crawling upon all fours, chased a small white dog. Her thick, curly black hair was pulled into two loose pigtails secured with pink ribbon.

"She wasn't yet one," she said as she took the photograph in her hands. "They're Muggle photographs—"

"They're beautiful," Sirius said and shook the envelope as he peered inside.

Althea grabbed the envelope from Sirius—at which Sirius laughed—and dumped its contents upon the bed. Small tears welled in her eyes as the once empty spaces in the photographs were filled with Prudence. Her fingertips glided over the cool, smooth photographs. _It must've lifted when she attended Hogwarts_, she thought, her eyes hungrily searching the pile of photographs. She frowned at Prudence, in her purple smock, pouring sand over the older boy's head. Prudence's expression reminded her of Sirius when he taunted Althea.

"I had Remus describe them to me," she said while Sirius smoothed out the pile. "Now I can see her."

The two spent the morning and the early afternoon upon their bed deconstructing every photograph of Prudence. Every toothless expression, every toy, every mundane activity captured in the photographs held a deeper meaning the two were to decipher. It wasn't until Sirius's theatrical groans of hunger that Althea was persuaded to return to Northfield. The two walked the winding path to the main house—Sirius with his arm resting upon Althea's waist and Althea holding the manila envelope closely to her chest.

"You won't place those in that pathetic box, will you?"

Althea carefully stepped over the knotted tree root as they entered the grove of trees. "That box isn't pathetic," she said, holding the manila envelope tighter. "And yes, I will."

Sirius made a noise of disgust. "You will certainly not," he said, pushing a low-lying branch from their path. "I'll buy you a proper album."

"Thank you," she murmured, allowing a small smile escape.

"Our daughter deserves more than a flimsy box," he continued and tossed his tousled black hair from his eyes. "I reckon I'll send her a letter with Bedelia," he added with a smirk.

Althea frowned. "Don't."

"What?" he laughed. "I'll do what I—"

"They have to believe that they are in control," she said, pulling at the soft torn corner of the envelope. "They're Muggles with the knowledge that magic exists…it's intimidating."

"I suppose," he sighed and pulled a face as Northfield came to view. "Northfield has never been inviting."

The stately early English Baroque grey stone house with its many corridors and wings stood imposingly before them, surrounded by spacious manicured lawns and intricate gardens. Althea wrinkled her nose. She wouldn't have minded a gnome or two wreaking havoc upon the fountains. At this time of day, Prudence should have been zooming past upon one of Althea's old brooms. Althea shook off the vengeful urge to send Prudence a Firebolt for her birthday.

"Prudence made it so," she said as she imagined Prudence weaving around the hedgerows. "It didn't seem as lonely."

"Always laughing," he reminisced. "Chasing me about. Gossiping with Afina."

Althea nodded and chewed her bottom lip. It had been five years since she tried last. _I just don't want to go through another exam again_, she thought, her stomach turning at the thought of questionnaires and stirrups, _and to be told that I'm unable to be helped_. It was always the same: the caring and compassionate staff, the promises and happy faces upon testimonial pamphlets, the pastel walls, and that gown, paper or cloth, that seemed to create a chill whenever worn. However, in her interviews, Althea had been less than truthful—she'd always omitted the part about the torture. She told a fabricated tale to protect herself and to hide the shame of her apparent stupidity of loving someone that wanted to murder her.

"I thought about that pamphlet Afina gave me."

Sirius frowned in an attempt to remember.

"That center," she said, feeling her heart thump violently against her chest, "The Salem Witches Health and Fertility Center."

"Oh."

"It's—it's been so long since I've tried anything," she said, letting her arms fall to her sides. "I'd given up, but this is new, maybe—"

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows.

_Oh God, I shouldn't—I shouldn't have brought it up_, she thought as Sirius rubbed his chin.

Althea stopped walking. "I just thought," she said and hesitated before she added, "it was so wonderful to have her here, wasn't it?"

Sirius smiled. "It was."

Althea inhaled as she closed her eyes. "I—I want to try."

Sirius laughed quietly. "Go ahead, but why do you need my permission?"

Althea opened her eyes. "I thought—"

Sirius slowly shook his head as he grinned. "I don't care."

"But—"

"I don't care," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.

"What if it doesn't work?"

"What if it does?" he asked and laughed softly. "I'll finally have to change those dirty nappies I promised." Sirius's hands glided up and down her arms. "Your happiness is everything," he said and looked at her thoughtfully, "but don't do it for me."

_He doesn't care_, she thought and the corners of her mouth gradually upturned into a smile. For a fleeting moment, Althea thought of destroying the pamphlet, but she would owl the center—Christmas or Easter holiday for evaluation, perhaps? She nodded to herself as Sirius opened the entrance doors. It would be her last evaluation.

"God, I'm starving," Sirius groaned as he massaged his stomach. "D'you reckon we could avoid a lecture? Althea Rosemary—"

At the sound of girlish bark-like laughter, Sirius quieted. Althea, who loosely held the manila envelope at her side, hastily brought it to her chest. Her lips parted, she glanced at Sirius—his face was pale from shock. The two rushed toward the laughter, and soon heard Afina yelp and giggle. _I don't believe this_, she thought, climbing the stairs two at a time.

"It can't be," she said, breathless, reaching the landing.

To her right, there was a white flash and Althea turned to see, midway down the corridor, Afina leaping out of the way. Prudence was not far behind—gleeful in the chase—with her wand pointed and, with a flick of her wand, another spell cast. It was Afina that spotted Althea first. She came to a halt, her feet slipping upon the corridor rug.

Afina grinned, brushing the thick brown hair from her eyes. "Enjoy your walk?"

Prudence, giggling, collided with Afina. Althea felt Sirius's hand upon the small of her back. Prudence, grasping Afina, giggled while they spun. Afina—inhaling deeply—brought Prudence to a stop.

"I win!" Prudence laughed and sighed happily. She turned to see Althea—Prudence gasped. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"What's going on?" Althea asked as Prudence tucked her wand in her back pocket.

Althea could not take her eyes from Prudence. Dressed in faded jeans and (Althea blinked) a Weird Sisters t-shirt with her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, Prudence nervously bit her bottom lip.

"It was my idea," Afina said, stepping forward. "Nothing was—"

"No, how long have you been here?" she asked, pointing to the floor. "At Northfield?"

Prudence shrugged and looked to Afina. "About an hour, I think."

"An hour?" Sirius said, his hand falling from Althea's back.

"You were on your walk, Auntie," Afina teased and winked at Sirius.

Sirius gave Afina a wary look.

"What—what are you doing here?" she asked, looking from Prudence to Afina. "You're supposed to be in Derbyfield, aren't you?"

Afina gave no clues as to Prudence's reason. Althea felt a sudden jolt in her stomach as she remembered her last words to Prudence: the open invitation to Northfield. _You didn't, did you_, she thought and swallowed, raising her fingers to her mouth. _You didn't—you couldn't run away_?

Sirius seemed to share her concern when he asked, "Do your mum and dad—"

"You're taking me to Hogwarts," Prudence answered, rising and falling upon the balls of her feet.

Althea's eyes widened. "I'm what?"

"To Hogwarts," she said brightly and grinned.

"Hogwarts?" Althea repeated and raised her eyebrow at Sirius.

Sirius seemed to share the same bemused expression.

"The Parkers arrived about an hour ago," Afina explained and looked as though about to laugh. "We're taking her to Hogwarts."

Sirius let out a laugh of surprise.

Althea disregarded their amusement. "Are they—are they here?" she asked nervously and licked her lips. She groaned internally at her appearance—her dress was wrinkled, her hair unkempt, and the pearl necklace partially hid a mortifying love bite she had yet to charm away. "Have they been waiting—"

Afina shook her head.

"No?" she breathed and quickly looked to Sirius.

He shrugged his shoulders and fought to maintain his concern. His lips quivered with glee.

"Oh!" Prudence gasped and reached into her pocket. She frowned. "Wait here," she said, holding up her hands, "I must've left it in my trunk." She nodded and trotted off to Althea's old bedroom.

Althea watched Prudence's curly ponytail swing and bob away from them. "An hour ago?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"It was quite a shock to see the Parkers happily drop off Prudence this morning," Afina said lowly, watching Prudence as well. "Especially after the quick exit yesterday."

Althea attempted to run her fingers through her unkempt hair. "I don't believe this," she breathed. "Nothing they do makes any sense. It's like they're under the Imperius Curse or something. I don't know what thoughts are real." She gently tugged at her roots and made a tiny noise of frustration. "It's so bizarre."

"Indeed," Sirius breathed.

The three quieted at the sound of Prudence's footsteps. Breathing shallow breaths, her expression pleased, she went to hand Althea a crisp white envelope. Althea thrust the manila envelope at Sirius's chest, and took the letter in her hands. She looked to Sirius, who shrugged and messed the back of his hair.

Althea eyed her name in blue ink. "I'll read this, right?" she said, her thumb caressing the smooth paper. Her daughter was home. She playfully narrowed her eyes at Prudence. "No dueling in the corridors—"

Sirius made a guttural noise and remarked, "It's like Hogwarts—"

"Outside, only," she continued as Sirius's mutterings compared her to McGonagall.

"Come on," Afina said, grabbing Prudence's arm, "let's go outside!"

Prudence giggled her reply, and the two girls raced down the stairs.

Once alone, Althea warned, "Don't ever compare me to McGonagall again."

"Ah, Minnie," Sirius whispered and Althea playfully elbowed him. "Come on," he said, and took her hand in his—his look exuberant, "our daughter's home."

"I'd like to read—" she began, but yelped as Sirius pulled her deeper into the corridor.

Althea's fingers twitched against the envelope as the couple entered Althea's old bedroom. The room looked as though Prudence had used the Reductor Curse to it. Her opened trunk rested at the center of the room; her quills, parchment and clothes strewn about. Bedelia, perched in her silver cage, faced the window, and Violet, with her large pink bow, slept upon a pillow. Althea spotted one of those witch teen magazines, _Cheeky_, with a shirtless, brooding Leif on the cover among her schoolbooks. She hastily distracted Sirius. Sirius sat upon the bed, which woke Violet from her nap. The black cat stretched and leisurely crawled into Sirius's lap.

"These are her things?" she asked, sitting next to him.

Sirius nodded.

"I'm not imagining Violet…or her trunk?"

"No," he answered, scratching the top of Violet's head.

"And I scolded our Prudence for dueling in the corridor?"

"Unjustly, yes," he said, and laughed quietly. "Why question it?" Althea was about to speak, but Sirius continued, "Read the bloody letter."

Althea carefully tore open the envelope and read Edwina's greeting. _Did you really write this_, she wondered as Edwina thanked Althea for Prudence's time at Northfield. _Oh, she wouldn't stop talking about us, about Northfield? Bet that rattled you_. Althea's eyes quickly scanned the letter and turned it over, anxious for their reason in the change in their decision. It was as if they were under the Imperius Curse for the letters Althea received and their actions seemed to contradict. Granted, Gran had deceived all in keeping Prudence for the week at Northfield, but the Parkers—after their hasty departure following their confrontation with Sirius and Althea—Althea's hopes had dimmed that Prudence would return to Hogwarts let alone return to her…and to Sirius. There, in the third to last paragraph, were the details of Prudence's return. She gasped—at which Violet leapt from Sirius's lap to the floor. After much consideration over the summer, Professor James Parker had accepted a position to teach Medieval Literature at an American university. They had sought to transfer Prudence to an American Wizarding school, but it was not possible at that time.

…_It would be wrong to take her from such an environment at this time with no alternative at the present. The Salem Witches' Institute has given its refusal of transfer…_

"Connecticut," she said and let her hand fall to her lap. "They're moving to Connecticut."

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Connecticut?"

"Yes," she said and pointed to the passage in the letter. "And they couldn't—"

Sirius grabbed the letter and read.

"James was offered a lucrative position at a university there," she explained, massaging her temple. "She is to live here," she said, still too stunned to laugh. "Our Prudence is to live here."

Sirius let out a triumphant laugh. He roughly kissed Althea's cheek. He nuzzled her neck, murmuring his joy that he had his Althea and his Prudence. Looking ahead, her fingers intertwined with the thick locks of Sirius's hair. Hadn't she wanted this? Almost thirteen years ago she had expected such an outcome, but Pettigrew's betrayal had taken it from her. Sirius, still very much the fugitive, and Prudence, ignorant of her birth, with Althea were to be a family—an unlikely family, but one Althea had hoped all those years ago. _Why question it_, she thought as Sirius murmured of Christmas, _she's home_. Still, it seemed a hollow victory.

Althea swallowed at his slightly incoherent promises. "What the hell did you do, Sirius Black?"

"_What_?" he asked, his voice cracking. "I did nothing—"

"You can't do this to Prudence!" she said and fiercely rubbed her forehead. "You just can't cast Memory Charms upon Muggles!"

"You think I did this?" he asked, breathless, his dull grey eyes exceptionally wide. "I was with you all night, Althea!" he reminded, his lips thinning. "How dare you think that I would do such a thing?"

"Well, Prudence is incapable!"

Sirius bit the inside of his cheek. "What about Afina?"

Althea shook her head.

Sirius nodded and inhaled deeply, very sure as he said, "Gran."

Althea paled.

"Althea," he began, tapping the letter against his thigh, "she goes to extraordinary lengths to protect you."

Althea shook her head. "She wouldn't—"

Sirius took her hand in his. "She's known of my innocence for almost _five years_," he said and Althea caught her breath.

"Five years?" she asked, wrinkling her brow. "She—she knew?"

Sirius nodded solemnly. "You were to marry that physician," he said and chewed his bottom lip. "My release would've upset you."

"Why would she—you're innocent," she said, her eyes losing their focus as she stared ahead of her. "Five years?" she whispered and let out a small sob. "Oh Sirius, I would've—"

"I was at Northfield, too—"

"To alert Gran, yes—"

Sirius squeezed her hand. "After—"

"After?" she said and turned her face toward him. "Oh God, Sirius, I was here, wasn't I?"

Sirius nodded once more. "I hadn't received word after I'd alerted the Order," he said—his voice had perceptible strain, "but I didn't know you were here, I swear. I would've—"

Althea brought his hand to her lips. "I know," she whispered and kissed it.

The door creaked open and the couple quickly parted. There, at the door, stood Gran in turquoise robes, her white hair neatly pulled into a plait. _Protect me at what cost_, she thought as Gran eyed the pair over her spectacles. Anger licked at Althea's belly. Gran's protective reach would escape Prudence—Althea would make sure of it.

"Prudence Rosemary is here, then?" she said, entering the room. She sneered at the piles of clothes and parchment. "The girl requires a house-elf—"

"You will _not_ call her Prudence Rosemary," Althea demanded and stood. "You won't control her as you have me—"

"I've far from controlled you, Althea Rosemary—"

"Stop it!" she said, holding up her hands. "You did this!" she continued, pointing her finger at Gran. "Didn't you?"

Gran was expressionless, silent.

"She's a little girl!" she said, and she looked to Prudence's things. She sighed. "You have to stop this!"

Gran flicked her wand at the door, slamming it shut. "I went to talk with them," she said. "They truly have no idea about your Prudence."

"Right," Sirius remarked, placing his hand on the small of Althea's back, "_talk_."

Althea felt strengthened by Sirius's touch. "Memory Charms upon Muggles?" she questioned. "Have them forget about her? Is that what you want? Will you cast a charm upon her, too? They are all she's ever known!"

"In time, Prudence will become accustomed."

Althea growled, "How dare you?"

"Despicable," Sirius spat.

"You've orchestrated this entire thing, haven't you? The job in Connecticut—"

"Professor Parker did that—"

"Her rejection at that school—"

Gran clamped her mouth shut.

"This," she said, motioning toward the letter Sirius held. "Why would you think it okay?"

Gran's head jerked back. She blinked at the perceived ungratefulness. "I did what you should have done," she said and produced a letter from her robe pocket. It bore the Hogwarts Seal.

"What _I _should have done?" she began, slapping her palm against her breast. "Such the perfect example of motherhood you are—"

Gran ignored Althea, "You have full guardianship of Prudence, Althea Rosemary."

"Guardianship?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Gran nodded and held out the Hogwarts letter for Althea. Althea reached out and took it in her hand. Warily, she opened the parchment. It was the letter sent to parents and guardians that detailed the events of the upcoming school year. Jovial in nature, it also gently reminded no magic outside of Hogwarts. It was addressed to Althea and to Sirius. _What do you have on Dumbledore, old woman_, she thought and thrust the letter toward Sirius. Sirius's anger faltered.

"You are her mother," she said and shifted her gaze to Sirius, "and you, are her father—"

Sirius slipped his arm around Althea's waist, holding her close to him.

"In the eyes of Hogwarts," Gran finished.

Althea rested the side of her face against Sirius's shoulder. She felt him sigh.

"It is as it should be."

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading! What is in store for Althea? A prudent secret.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

It was Sirius's idea.

Althea lifted the glass of wine to her lips—her eyes drawn to the decoration above her. Twisted paper streamers of scarlet and gold crisscrossed and stretched across the intricately molded ceiling. She leaned against the side table of the sitting room and crossed her arms before her. She had to admit, it was a great improvement from the cold antiques and priceless masterpieces. The party to wish Prudence well for the start of her second year was definitely Sirius's idea. When Prudence related that she did not receive such a party on receipt of her Hogwarts letter, Sirius—whose shock bordered on grandiose—sought to immediately mend the situation. According to him, every Wizarding child received such a party (Althea didn't interject that it could be just a Black family tradition) and despite the short notice, Prudence would have a fantastic one. _You're absolutely ridiculous_, she thought as Sirius and Remus sat before the delighted Prudence. Althea kicked a gold balloon and it hovered for a moment before it lazily floated downward not a foot away. _It's like she's the bloody Head Girl_. Althea stifled her laugh at the absurdity of her child becoming Head Girl. The half-eaten chocolate cake with gobs of scarlet and gold frosting rested at her side. Sirius would not need a Cheering Charm tonight.

"It just placed me," Remus said and ruffled his hair before he placed his arm upon the back of the sofa. "I wouldn't have had as much fun if I was placed elsewhere."

Althea nodded faintly. _Would they have done what we have done for you, Remus_, she wondered, swirling the scarlet liquid in her glass. _Most likely, not_.

Prudence looked brightly at Sirius.

Sirius shrugged. "I might've argued with it—"

Althea felt Gran next to her. "Do you disapprove of him now?" she whispered, holding the glass before her lips.

"A bit over the top, if you ask me."

Althea laughed a quiet, bitter laugh. "Of course," she said and rested her glass upon the side table.

Althea left Gran to join Sirius, who continued to tell Prudence his Sorting Hat tale. Althea stopped behind the sofa and placed her palm upon his thin shoulder.

"Said it knew where to put me," he said, and defiantly tossed his hair, "and I said, 'Really, do you?'"

Remus let out a quiet laugh, but Prudence was very still, absorbed in Sirius' story.

"Slytherin," he began, making a slight face and shaking his head, "didn't appeal to me. I had three cousins—all girls—and it was a relief to me every September when they went off to Hogwarts."

As Sirius continued retell his debate with the Sorting Hat, Althea couldn't help but imagine the three cousins fighting over the toddler Sirius—dressed up in a dreadful concoction of their choosing and his hair in ribbons—and as a small boy, the humiliation at the hands of his Hogwarts-trained cousins. It wasn't preteen rebellion against pure-blood supremacy that kept him out of Slytherin (no, the young Althea was aware how easily the eleven-year-old Sirius could spout such hateful words in anger), but avoidance of three teenage girls that enjoyed teasing their baby cousin.

Althea bent forward. "Bellatrix wasn't very motherly was she?" she whispered into his ear.

Sirius wrinkled his nose. Althea squeezed his shoulder before sitting upon the armrest of the sofa.

"Best decision, though," he said and slid his arm around Althea's waist. "Could you imagine spending the next seven years in Slytherin with Snivelly?"

Prudence stuck out her tongue.

"Sharing a dormitory, having to hear that abysmally large nose snore night after—"

"Sirius," she warned.

"—night," he finished and shuddered. "His greasy film in the bath—"

Remus made a noise of disgust. "Discuss something else, Padfoot, will you?" he asked with a sneer.

"Excellent idea," Althea began.

"Yes," Afina chimed in, "anything but Snape."

"Ah," Remus began, "like the time we charmed our witless Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to the Hogwarts roof—"

Sirius let out a bark-like laugh and Prudence eagerly sat forward.

"—or when you charmed those suits of armor—"

Prudence bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

Althea covered her face with her palm.

Remus snapped his fingers. "Your banishment from Madam Puddifoot's—"

Althea lowered her hand to see Afina smirking at her. She shook her head and mouthed, 'Jane.' Afina covered her mouth, snickering.

Sirius scratched his jaw. "Nah, Hogwart's roof—that's a good one," he said and slowly smiled. "It took weeks of planning—"

Father and daughter sat forward, and Sirius unraveled the plan to best Professor Erlenmeyer. _It's useless_, she thought and stroked a thick lock of black hair behind his ear, _for me to object_. Sirius was eager to share his history with Prudence, and how could Althea object when she longed for the same? Although, the important things—the advice every girl entering their teenage years longed for—Althea would be the one to tell. Would it be much like her interactions with Afina? Or would Afina hold that role, and Althea, would be as Gran? Althea flinched. _I never want to think of myself as Gran again_.

_This is unreal_, she thought as Remus told the part he played in the prank, _our daughter with us_. Althea would have a birthday party to plan—she straightened—and Christmas. She placed a hand over her stomach—the excited fluttering multiplied. She kissed Sirius atop his head and inhaled the fresh smell of his shampoo—he stroked her back affectionately. She glanced toward Remus. His mannerisms seemed at ease. He seemed…light. The change began shortly after Sirius's innocence was made known to him. His jovial nature reminded her of the boy at Hogwarts. It was a welcome change for neither had realized how weary they had become. The emptiness of two lost and broken souls was made whole again by the third addition, Sirius. Now, as Prudence has returned to them, relief and forgiveness supplanted his guilt in the affair.

Sirius's fingers traced gentle circles into the small of Althea's back. "What would you like for your birthday, dear Prudence?"

Prudence laughed lightly, tucking a long black curl behind her ear. "My birthday is November," she said, "it's August."

"I know," Sirius replied and grinned. "What would you like?"

Prudence shook her head. "You don't have to—"

"Nonsense!" he replied and leaned forward. "What would you like?"

Prudence was hesitant.

"Anything, dear Prudence," Sirius offered, extending his arms, "anything."

Prudence chewed her bottom lip before she asked, "Anything?"

"Anything."

Prudence looked to Althea—seeming to ask permission.

Althea nodded and mouthed, "Go on."

With some hesitancy she answered, "A broom."

Sirius gave a single nod. "What else?"

Prudence's eyes widened. "What else?"

"What else?" he asked again, pleased that he could provide so for her.

Prudence furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't know."

"A winged horse," Althea teased.

Sirius leaned back as he whistled. "Done."

Afina laughed.

"What else?"

The apples of Prudence's cheeks flushed pink.

"She'll have time to think about it," Althea intervened and kissed the top of Sirius's head once more. "I'll hex you if you buy her a Firebolt," she whispered as Sirius to hear.

Prudence looked upon the couple and smiled.

* * *

_Will she think I'm mad_, Althea wondered as she stood outside the closed bedroom door. Her fingers lightly caressed the cool wood door. Maybe it was best not to tell Prudence goodnight. Maybe it was best to return to her quarters where Sirius was waiting for her. Maybe it was best as the morning would come and the mother and daughter could spend the final day preparing for Hogwarts. On September first, she would be the one to escort Prudence to King's Cross. She felt a warm, pleasing burst in her stomach at that truth. Althea's mind busied itself with preparation. She would have money for the train, of course, but Althea would see to it she was well supplied with sweets and other treats for her journey. Surely, they would need to arrive in an adequate amount of time prior to departure—Prudence would need to choose her carriage if her friends had not already done so. Althea frowned slightly at the fleeting pangs of doubt and apprehension. Should she wait upon the platform? Would Prudence expect her to? Should she stay and wave until the train pulled away from the station, just as her father had done? Maybe it was best if Afina took Prudence to King's Cross. Althea could make the excuse of having to arrive early at Hogwarts to prepare for the new school term. Afina's enthusiasm wouldn't arouse suspicion. And she couldn't risk Sirius's exposure. She would make certain that the Sleeping Potion she prepared for him tomorrow night would have an extended effect.

"Yes?"

Althea caught her breath. She cursed her hand for knocking upon the door. She couldn't turn away. Althea opened the door—conscious not to look too eager to see Prudence—to the music of that band Afina liked, Blur, drifting into the hall. Prudence, in pink silk pajamas, reclined on her stomach upon the bed—a glossy teen witch magazine before her. She looked up at Althea and smiled. Althea's smile was genuine as well. If Althea had raised Prudence, would she have been so inviting? Surely, Althea was never so inviting to Gran. Althea wondered if there would come a time when Prudence would charm the door to shut in her face, as well. She prayed they never had that disconnect, that animosity between them. _If you knew what I was to you, would it happen then_?

Prudence returned to her magazine and flipped the page. Make up tips. She was almost at that age when girls would care about cosmetics.

"I was never much for the magic kind," Althea said, sitting next to Prudence. "Too heavy, I think. It felt like a mask."

Prudence was silently reading.

"I couldn't remove the lipstick," she continued, "I had to charm it off. It was ghastly, too, turned orange on my lips."

Prudence wrinkled her nose.

"Maybe it's changed somewhat," she said as a curl fell into Prudence's eyes.

Prudence blew upon the curl, but it barely budged.

Althea swept the curl behind Prudence's ear. She could sense Prudence was troubled. "Are you all right?"

Prudence nodded.

Althea frowned a bit at her little liar. "With your parents' moving?"

"I know," she sighed. "I was at Hogwarts…that's far away, too."

"It is," Althea murmured.

"Maybe next year."

Althea nodded. "Maybe," she said and quietly cleared her throat. "I was terribly homesick the first night at Hogwarts," she continued and Prudence, not looking up from the magazine, seemed to listen. "It was the first I'd been apart from my father. That night, after Sorting, I snuck down to the common room and cried and cried. I missed him terribly. I wrote him, begging him to take me home. I wonder what would've happened if I'd sent the letter—"

_If Remus hadn't thrown it in the fire_.

"Probably nothing, I suppose."

Prudence closed her magazine. "Genevieve shared her sweets with me," she said, pushing up from the bed. "Magical candy? Ridiculous."

Althea laughed quietly. "Right, I thought the same."

Prudence rested her back against a group of fluffy pillows. She crossed her legs and cocked her head to the side as she studied Althea. "Do you—do you wonder what it would be like?"

"What? If I didn't attend Hogwarts?"

Prudence nodded.

Althea's stomach sank. She understood that Prudence knew of her parents' plan to send her to school in America.

"My life," Althea said, looking to the space that separated them, "would've been very different. I wouldn't have been…a professor of Muggle Studies for one thing."

"I wouldn't be here."

Althea felt a thud against her chest. _She didn't mean anything by it_.

"No, and neither would Afina, or Remus," she said, feeling the color return to her cheeks, "or Sirius—"

"He'd be alone."

Althea nodded. "Very much so," she said and looked around the messy room.

Violet and Bedelia, perched in her silver cage, rested upon the same window ledge. Second-year books were opened and Althea knew Prudence had practiced more spells. School robes were draped over the side of the large black trunk.

"This is your home—I mean—while you're at Hogwarts…and this is your room, if you'd like."

"Thank you," she said, but a curious expression came over Prudence's face. "Why do all this?"

Althea swallowed and spoke, "I just want you to be happy."

Prudence lips curved into a small smile. "I am."

"Good," she sighed and arched an eyebrow at Prudence. "You really like it at Northfield?"

Prudence nodded. "Very much."

"If you didn't like the room—"

"It's lovely," she said, her eyes seeming to take in the room. "It really is."

Althea leaned forward, eager. "We'll decorate it—any color, any style—you'd like—"

Prudence shook her head. "I like it the way it is," she said. "I want to keep it."

"Of course," she agreed, her fingers stroked the embroidered duvet. "It's just—when I was younger, I'd always felt like Northfield was a prison…Althea smiled. "I hope you don't feel that way."

Prudence shook her head once more. "No, no, I don't," she said and seeming to look through Althea, added, "I feel free."

Such an odd statement, but Althea reckoned the life of the Muggle-born Hogwarts student was full of restraint. Lily had received a letter from the Ministry at least once a summer. The new laws, passed at the height of Voldemort, were to protect those underage Muggle-borns and their families from attack…although, there were rumors of Voldemort's supporters in the Ministry using such a law to expel the students, easily track them, and murder them.

"Are you all right with what your parents decided?" she asked. "If you'd like—"

"They didn't understand me, anyway," she said and picked up the magazine. She quickly flipped through its glossy pages before she tossed it on the floor.

"Oh?"

Prudence nodded, pulling her knees to her chest. "Thought Hogwarts was a joke," she explained and rested her chin against her knees. "My father went mental because I didn't have maths."

"We'll have to educate them on Arithmancy," she offered.

Prudence refused to look up at Althea. "They don't appreciate me."

Althea's heart plummeted. Why would Prudence believe such a thing? _Did he tell you that your magic was useless during your trip home_, she wondered, as Prudence seemed to stare at the painted pink nails of her wiggling toes. _Did he joke of your transfiguration skills or remark at how ridiculous one would be to ride a broom_? For the first time, Althea felt disappointment directed toward the Parkers. She had thought them forward thinking—so much so—to adopt knowingly a magical child. _No one is truly prepared, are they_? She thought of that moment, one month before the wedding, when she finally had the nerve to tell Derrick of what she was after he'd joked about the strange family in capes leaving King's Cross. When he realized their children would be like her (she lost her nerve to divulge of the curse), he left her simply with these words:

_How could I explain them to my family and friends?_

"Oh, I think they do. They just—it's a shock, that's all…a good shock," she said and pulled at an embroidered purple flower bud. "One can't help but have certain hopes and dreams for her child, and when something happens…it takes time." Althea leaned forward and craned her neck to look at Prudence. "It doesn't mean they love you any less, far from it. As my father told me, magic or Muggle, there is no difference. They do appreciate you, very much."

Prudence looked up at Althea. "Not like you…or Sirius," she said and slowly smiled. "Flitwick invited me to his private dueling club!"

Althea grinned. "Because you're brilliant at Charms," she said as Prudence continued to smile. "Well done."

"There are only six," she continued and leaned forward. "Were you in it?"

"No, but Sirius was," she said as Prudence—pleased with herself—rested her back against the headboard—the pillows fluffing up around her. "You should tell him. He'd be very pleased."

"He's so different," she said quietly.

"Not like the man who slashed the Fat Lady's Portrait—"

Prudence nodded.

"I'm still after him about that," she said, and tugged the hem of Prudence's pink silk pajama pant leg. "I did as you advised, though."

Prudence raised an eyebrow.

"You don't remember? In my office?" she asked and let out a small laugh. "Those words I should speak to my one, true love?"

"Oh…_oh_," Prudence remembered and smiled. "Worked, didn't it?"

"Indeed," she replied and winked. "I should follow your advice always."

"You should run away together."

Althea chuckled once more. "I don't think that wise—"

"Why not?" she questioned, sitting forward. "You could send me letters and pictures of all the exotic places you visit!"

"Dumbledore wouldn't find my replacement in time," she explained and Prudence sank further into the bed, "but I have entertained the idea, I can assure you."

Prudence smiled weakly, but quickly her expression became rather pensive. _You would like to know how I discovered, wouldn't you_, she thought as Prudence countenance bore hesitation. _You've wondered so much_.

"You'd like to ask me something, wouldn't you?"

Prudence nodded. "You were a Healer?"

Althea nodded, somewhat relieved at Prudence's question. "And a Midwife."

"Midwife?"

"I chose the Healing Arts to help people," she said and folded her arms. "I was tired of putting people back together for their funerals. I wanted to focus on life and not death."

Prudence swallowed, "How awful."

"It was."

Prudence let out a quiet gasp. "So, you were a Midwife when many of my classmates—"

Althea shook her head, unfolding her arms. "I'd given it up before Sirius was sent to Azkaban," she said as Prudence—dejected—folded her arms. "It was too dangerous for me to work."

Prudence feigned lack of interest as she asked, "When did you quit?"

"Earlier that year," she explained, careful of her words. "I had to protect myself. Healers and Midwives were murdered, and I couldn't risk it anymore."

"Horrible," she murmured and wrinkled her nose, "but it must've been very boring."

Althea nodded. "I was forced to stay in my home all day."

Prudence made a face. "What did you do?"

"Healed Sirius, mostly," she said, smoothing the duvet. "He's never been good with Healing Charms—well, to the level of a Healer. He was still carrying out missions and fighting—"

"That's not very fair."

"No, it wasn't," she said, "but we were incredibly naïve. I don't think we truly understood what we faced." She frowned. "It didn't matter. I was still discovered."

Prudence let out a soft whimper.

"Let's not focus on such things, shall we?" Althea said and forced a smile. She looked to the silver clock upon the nightstand. "It's very late, as well," she said and stood. "I should leave you to sleep."

Prudence frowned. "Would you ever return?"

"To the Healing Arts?" she asked and Prudence nodded. "Eventually," she answered and squeezed Prudence's hand. "Goodnight."

Prudence squeezed back. "Goodnight."

_Flitwick's dueling club_, she thought, careful to step over the Potions textbook. _I'll have to tell him; otherwise, he'd embarrass himself with his enthusiasm_. She narrowed her eyes. _At least someone is enthusiastic about her magical ability_.

Prudence cleared her throat. "Did you know before Hogwarts that the Sorting Hat spoke?"

Althea shook her head as she turned to face Prudence. "I was completely surprised. I thought I'd have to perform some magic."

"Genevieve told me," she said, not looking toward Althea. "The Hat wanted to place her in Ravenclaw, but she didn't want to be separated from me."

Althea smiled. _I didn't want to be apart from Lily_.

Prudence picked at the duvet, and swallowed before she asked, "Did it say anything to you?"

Althea nodded. "I heard all sorts of things about the Houses on the train," she said, stepping forward. "Mostly from Sirius and his friends."

Prudence had stopped picking at the duvet.

"All I had to do was place that hat upon my head and it would know where I should go? No, thank you."

Prudence caught her breath.

Althea leaned against the bedpost at the foot of the bed. "The Sorting Hat rambled on about Hufflepuff, and then Ravenclaw, and I became so frustrated that I demanded that it place me with my friends—the most logical thing to do," she said and laughed. "I reckon that's how most of us end up where we are."

Prudence, pale, nodded to herself. Althea noticed the girl's trembling fingers.

"Are you all right?"

Prudence, refusing to look up at Althea, spoke, "The Sorting Hat told me that I would be easier to place than my parents because I'd be the same."

Althea blinked. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she coughed to correct it. She wanted Prudence to speak those words again, but her lips could not form words to speak.

"I'm adopted," Prudence said with an audible tremble.

Althea slumped to the bed. She closed her eyes to combat the dizziness growing in her mind. She inhaled a slow breath as not to faint.

"I'm not supposed to know, I think," she said quietly as Althea opened her eyes. "I'd discovered when they adopted Oliver. I heard them arguing."

Althea dared not look at Prudence.

"I don't know much," she said and sniffed, "just what I heard…'poor witch', really."

Althea exhaled a slow, ragged breath. The Sorting Hat had revealed her secret. Her eyes widened as she frantically searched every moment of the memory of Prudence's Sorting. She was self-assured, pleased, and when that bloody Hat shouted, "Gryffindor!" Prudence's smile did not falter.

"I—I'm sorry for deceiving you—"

Althea attempted to murmur, "No."

"We all have our secrets."

It was as if the wand upon nightstand had pierced Althea's heart. Her trembling hands clutched the side of the bed. Did Prudence know? Did Prudence truly know or had she imagined it to be real? Had Prudence described her fantasy, oblivious to its reality? _If you knew, if you truly knew_, she thought, fighting the tears welling in her eyes. _Would you truly want us as your mum and dad_? Was it Prudence's outlandish dream to have Sirius as her father and Althea as her mother? It was the sort of romantic notion Prudence would have—especially with the history between the couple and the liberty they allowed Prudence at Northfield. _You might romanticize us as your parents, but if you actually knew_…

Prudence inhaled a deep breath. "I wonder what they look like…I can't help but look at people—at faces—"

_Of course_, she thought, resting her temple against the bedpost as to keep herself upright.

"My hair—"

_Like mine_.

"—my eyes, and my smile, whose smile do I have?"

_Your father_.

"My mother's bed…did we sleep in the same bed?"

_Yes_.

"What were my father's favorite classes? Are they mine?"

_No_, _you and I liked Charms the best_.

"What were they like?"

_Arrogant_.

"What did they like to do?"

_Snogging, mostly_.

"Did they receive detentions?"

_Snape had you rewrite our detention cards_.

Prudence sighed mournfully. "I'll never know, will I?"

_Tell her, you stupid girl_, she thought, swallowing her tears.

"I reckon she was forced to give me away," Prudence continued, pulling at the pillowcase. "At least that's what I thought when my parents spoke of it…like any moment she'd take me away, but she hasn't…. Probably forgot about me and had another family—"

_That isn't true! Say something_!

"No!" Althea blurted out awkwardly, lifting herself from the bedpost.

She slowly turned her head to face Prudence's peculiar look. What felt like ice water washed over her insides at the recognition of her outburst. Prudence was so young…but would it have made a difference? Wouldn't the feelings Prudence shared with Althea be the same at any age? At twelve? At seventeen? At thirty? Would Prudence, knowing Althea and Sirius as they were, hold resentment toward them if she discovered the truth at an older age? _It was a choice I had made, and I have to tell you_, she thought, _I, alone_. The words, always simmering beneath the surface, bubbled within her chest. She knew once she began to speak, she would not stop.

"No, no," she murmured, shaking her head. "That isn't true—_God _—that isn't true. She hasn't forgotten you, she couldn't."

"Yeah?" Prudence asked with a sad eagerness, moving closer to Althea.

Althea nodded. "She probably feels it best to stay away."

"Stay away?"

"Yes," she replied and licked her dry lips. "You're with your mum and dad, and you're happy—that's all she's ever wanted for you—to be loved, to be safe, and to be happy. Are you those things?"

Prudence nodded.

"Maybe she believes that it would upset you if she decided to make herself known…that it would hurt you," she said, looking to her hands, to the ruby ring she retrieved from the attic. "She doesn't want you to think you have to choose—"

"Choose?"

"That would never be her intention, I swear to you," she said, fiddling with the ruby ring with more vigor. "You are so very young, and she could be afraid that you won't understand the circumstances—"

"Circumstances?"

Althea nodded, reluctantly gazing upon Prudence. "Afraid that you would hate her."

"Hate her?" Prudence murmured and frowned. "No, I could never hate her."

Prudence's wet grey eyes met Althea's. Althea started to tremble. _Finish what you've started, you stupid girl_, she thought and bit her bottom lip.

"That you won't…forgive her," she said—her voice begging—as she sat forward, closer to Prudence. "She never wanted to hurt you…never wanted to you to feel less…incomplete…she did—she was scared—and she did what she thought would best protect you," she continued, and looked to the ring Sirius had given her on her sixteenth birthday that Prudence now wore. She reached for Prudence's hand and turned the ring so the amethyst was visible. "You're all she had…all she'll ever have."

For a few moments, Prudence was silent—her mind absorbing and evaluating Althea's words. Then she asked, "Would you…would you ever think of giving your daughter away?"

Prudence's quiet, broken voice caused Althea pause.

Despite the overwhelming urge to lie, Althea nodded. "You were in danger, and I know your mum would've done anything to protect you," she said and cupped Prudence's face with her hands. "The Parkers are very noble, very brave for taking you into their home. It is apparent how much they love you—you're so very lucky to be so loved," she said as she felt Prudence tremble beneath her hands. "I can say, without any doubt, your mother thinks of you every day."

"And my father?"

Althea nodded.

"Do you think they would be proud of me?"

"Immensely," she said hoarsely.

"Do they love me?"

"Very much."

"You fold my socks," Prudence croaked and collapsed into Althea's arms.

Althea gasped at the weight of Prudence against her. The shaking, sobbing girl buried herself against Althea. Althea lifted her arms to surround Prudence, her fingers lost in the soft curls of Prudence's hair. Her warm tears seeped through Althea's silk dressing gown and dampened her skin.

"Say it," she thought she heard Prudence whisper as she smelled Althea, "_say it_, _please_!"

Althea gently coaxed Prudence from her embrace. Prudence raised her tear-stained face, and Althea shuddered for Prudence's eyes did not bear their usual jovial mischief, but longing and pain. _I caused this_, she thought, sweeping the wet curls from Prudence's face.

Althea swallowed to temporarily alleviate the tightness in her throat. "I'm so sorry," she whispered—her voice unsteady—as Prudence's lower lip quivered. "I'm so sorry for what I've done…forgive me, please."

Prudence gasped—her eyes widened.

Large tears slid down Althea's cheeks. "I never wanted something so much as I wanted you…_my _Prudence."

Prudence knew. Althea could never take back what was said. How many moments had she wanted to utter those words to Prudence…and for Prudence to remember them? The tight, heavy feeling in her chest, the lump in her throat, and the dull ache of shame were gone.

Althea's voice, strong and clear, with a warmth and softness she had spoken to Prudence almost thirteen years before, said, "I love you, my little one."

Prudence, more tears falling down her cheeks, looked upon Althea with a mixture of relief and surprise. She quickly buried herself against Althea. Althea tightly held Prudence, nuzzling her with her cheek and rocking her gently. It wasn't a dream. She was not dodging hexes as Prudence screamed that she hated her. No, as Althea sobbed her apology, Prudence sobbed of her blanket. _I didn't change my perfume on the chance that we would meet. I'd charmed your blanket so…that you'd have some memory of me_.

"The perfume," she sobbed, and Althea roughly kissed the top of Prudence's head. "My blanket—it always smelt—I didn't—not until—I went home," she continued and coughed. "It was you, but it wasn't. It was missing—"

"Your dad," she whispered, and felt Prudence nod against her.

"I knew—I smelt it, and I knew," she continued to sob. "I was scared—thought I'd imagined it—didn't want something so much—something so—"

"What's all this?"

Althea's heart leapt with excitement.

"Why all the tears?" Sirius asked.

Prudence hiccoughed.

"That ring you're wearing, " she whispered, still holding Prudence tightly to her, "your father gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday."

Althea pulled away from Prudence and, biting her lip to suppress a fit of laughter, nodded toward Sirius. Without hesitation, Prudence rushed toward Sirius. She threw her arms around his waist and met him with such great force as to cause him to take a step back. Bemused, at the young girl sobbing against him, he looked toward Althea; however, his bemused expression slowly faded as he looked upon her. Despite her red face, her nose swollen from tears, and her dressing gown tear-stained, Althea felt radiant. Sirius understood. His eyes, his smile bore the recognition of their truth.

"Good Lord, Pip," he murmured, rubbing her back, "you cry as much as your mum." Sirius's eyes widened and he blinked repeatedly.

Prudence pulled away from him and sniffed loudly to compose herself. "I'm in Flitwick's dueling club."

Sirius's lips formed a crooked smile. "As you should be," he said and brought the sleeve of his dressing gown to her cheek, dabbing tears away. "I named you. You weren't yet born, and I sang to you," he said, crouching to be eye to eye with her. He lifted her palm to meet his. "I could feel your little hand against mine."

Prudence smiled, intertwining their fingers.

"For twelve years, I thought you dead," he said quietly. "When I thought I lost you…it was the worst night of my life—"

Althea adjusted her dressing gown as she joined the pair.

"I shouldn't have left you, I should've stayed to protect your mum, to protect you," he said as Althea's fingertips glided up and down his back. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right," Prudence said and Althea felt a relieved breath escape Sirius. Prudence turned toward Althea. She smiled at her mother. "It's all right."

* * *

Sirius inhaled deeply. The rise of his chest pushed those tiny, fine hairs against Althea's nose, and she wrinkled her nose to avoid a sneeze. She shifted next to him, turning her head slightly, still aware of the smell of his soap upon his warm skin. A smell, intermingled with her own floral perfume, which led Prudence to discover her truth. It was decided that Prudence would be the one to disclose such information to those she trusted. While Sirius was still very much the fugitive she would limit her knowledge to very few. She would tell Genevieve, of course. It was Genevieve's idea, actually. When the two girls discussed Prudence's true identity and reentry into Wizarding society, the name of Sirius Black—in excitedly hushed tones—was spoken. It seemed fanciful, but logical, and when Prudence delved further into the biography of Sirius Black (the old _Daily Prophets_ and the Hogwarts Trophy Room provided some information) she felt an undeniable kinship to him. It was on purpose that she sought out Remus and Althea, and when Snape required Prudence to rewrite detention cards, the thought of Althea more than the Muggle Studies professor, more than the foil of Sirius Black's teenage escapades entered her mind.

Gran was right, and Althea loathed admitting it. Children did know, but it was up to the parents to decide the outcome. It would be very different from how Gran and Arcturus treated George. It was different.

Althea lifted herself onto her stomach as Sirius's arm slid from her back. She studied him in the dim moonlight. His eyes closed, his lips slightly parted, and his face peaceful. At these moments, Althea—with regret—would think of the lost time between them, of the lost moments such as this, but each thought was without Prudence. It was useless to lament upon a past without her for Prudence was very much present and would always be. Althea bit her bottom lip as she knowingly smiled. It seemed fitting that Sirius should look after his daughter in her soon-to-be teenage years. A cosmic justice, really. Now he would fret about insolently handsome boys upon flying motorbikes stealing his daughter away through her bedroom windows. _As long as she isn't caught by McGonagall at one in the morning with her head in the lap of some Gryffindor boy, we'll call our parenting a success_, she thought and wrinkled her nose at the thought of Prudence rewriting that detention card. She prayed Snape would've showed some discretion. Gran and Mrs. Black never looked so mortified as the two refused to acknowledge one another in Dumbledore's office.

Sirius sleepily raised his hand to the back of her head and roughly massaged her scalp. "You can't sleep, can you?"

Althea shook her head.

"Let her sleep," he said and brought his other hand to his face. "You'll see her in the morning," he added and laughed as he rubbed his cheek. "Brilliant."

Althea bent to kiss his unshaven cheek and she felt him smile against her lips. She removed herself from his embrace and rolled onto her side. Sirius's arm quickly slipped around her waist and pulled her close to him—his face buried at the nape, in the tangle of her hair. She pressed herself against him, so that every contour fit his perfectly. She heard him sigh against her as she closed her eyes—his moist breath warming her neck.

"Your feet are exceptionally cold."

"Don't snore in my ear."

"Likely."

"Goodnight, Black."

"Goodnight…Prudence's mum."

Althea smiled.

* * *

**AN:** Thank you so much for reading. Honestly, this is a chapter I'd never thought I'd actually write, but the talk between Prudence and Althea had to happen this way, I guess. Again, thank you so much for reading and all the lovely reviews. Please do not hesitate to leave a comment or review. I've responded to them all. Cathy: thank you for your review. I'm conflicted about Gran as well-for what she does and will always do is for Althea.

What is in store for Althea? The new school year.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Althea smoothed the skirt of her violet robes. She very much liked the slimmed lines of Afina's design. The fabric clung to her form nicely. She looked younger, felt younger as she should—she was only thirty-four…not seventy-four! She turned her chair from side to side—Hogwarts did need a bit of glamour. Hogwarts. She sighed, wrinkling her nose at her desk, her bookshelves, at her windows, and at the rest of her office. The Welcoming Feast was not for a few more hours, but she had to welcome Moody. She smirked. _He'll be delighted to know I'm wearing my best bra and knickers for him_, she thought and flicked the corner of the unmarked essay of Hermione Granger upon her desk. She gave the girl a perfect mark anyway.

She would visit Sirius on the weekend…if she could wait that long. She arched her fingers, her nails dragged across the arms of her chair, as she thought of him. He promised to refurbish the cottage. He assured her that by Christmas, the cottage would be livable and the couple would spend their first Christmas as a family with Harry and with Prudence. She shook her head—another Christmas would be spent at Northfield—for she could not imagine him, alone, living so closely to Gran for such a length of time. No, she would find him bothering Remus, and sabotaging his teaching efforts not to teach Freddie naughty spells. _He could always…live here_, she thought and felt a jolt of excitement at such an idea. Her big, black dog, the lovable stray that Althea took in, would be a perfect cover…except for Moody. She sighed loudly.

"Bloody Aurors," she murmured and made a face.

Out of her periphery, she noticed the fluttering of wings at her window. Gran's owl hopped onto her desk and held out its leg, seeming to sneer at her and the note attached to it. Althea reached forward and snickered at the very naughty nickname in Sirius' script.

"If only Gran knew what you did on your own time," she said, taking the letter in her hands.

The owl shook its leg and quickly flew off. Althea giggled deeply; her eyes drifted from the outline of the owl and the storm clouds in the distance to the letter. _You haven't called me this in ages_, she thought, her finger slipping underneath the envelope edge. _At least I didn't receive this at the Head Table…imagine the looks from colleagues_. She unfolded the letter and read:

_I couldn't bear to spend the evening without you. _

_Meet me in the Shrieking Shack at 9pm. _

_You won't be late for morning classes, I promise._

_Always,_

_Your S _

Althea wrinkled her nose. The Shrieking Shack? She would have preferred her quarters, but with the prospect of a very capable ex-Auror lurking about Hogwarts, one had to take precaution. She folded the letter and tossed it upon her desk. She would have to remind him tonight. She continued to swivel gently in her chair; her fingers absently picked at the edges of papers upon her desk. Some would think she was feeble or desperate for renewing a relationship with Sirius—even crazy or obsessive. However, he was an unresolved part of her life. She smiled—she was very pleased at how it resolved. Why wouldn't she want to be with a man that understood her? Accepted her? Loved her?

Loud, but firm, knocking broke Althea from her thoughts.

"Yes?" she said, sitting up. "Come in."

It was difficult to obscure her frown at the sight of Severus Snape. Snape, of course, exhibited the same displeasure.

"I hope you had a good summer," she said, sitting forward as Snape entered her office. "Enjoyed a bit of sun," she said and wrinkled her nose at Snape's perpetual sallow complexion, "or not."

Disregarding all pleasantries and politeness, Snape said, "The Headmaster would like to speak with you."

Althea sighed as she tapped her palms against the armrests of her chair. "Of course," she murmured and forced a smile. "I'll arrive shortly," she added and nodded for him to leave.

Snape, however, did not take notice. "I wish Dumbledore would have accepted your resignation," he said, his hands balling into fists at his side.

Althea arched an eyebrow. "How did you know?" she asked as she stood.

Snape would not give her the satisfaction of an answer, and instead replied, "Wanted to chase after Lupin, no doubt."

"Hardly," she said as she walked to the front of her desk.

"I will do everything in my power to know how you let Black escape."

Althea laughed. "Likely," she said with an amused smile. "Have you forgotten I had my wand aimed at his heart?"

"A weak display," he replied, studying Althea, "and an empty threat, as usual."

"Of course," she murmured, as she rested against the desk and folded her arms. "Did you spend this summer in attempt to track him down?"

Snape's thick, black eyebrow twitched.

"Lurked about every moor, traversed heath after countless heath, leaving no stone unturned of the countryside in your quest to find him," she continued and bit her bottom lip with feigned thoughtfulness. "Ah, but he was so bloody elusive, wasn't he? Always one step ahead, and definitely not on a beach somewhere up to his eyes in pert tits and tight asses of university-age girls on summer holiday."

"Are you finished?" he said through his gritted, uneven teeth.

Althea nodded. "Why are you still here?" she asked and motioned toward the door. "Good day, Snape."

Snape swallowed as if about to vomit as he spoke, "I am to escort you."

"I reckon I can manage," she said and nodded once more for him to leave.

"I was summoned as well," he said, adjusting the sleeves upon his black robes. "The Headmaster would like to speak to the both of us."

"Bloody hell," she muttered and kicked her heel against the floor.

"Exactly."

Althea sighed heavily, throwing her head back, and lifted herself from her desk. She reluctantly followed Snape up the staircases and through the hallways and corridors that led to Professor Dumbledore's office. Why would Dumbledore insist upon a meeting with Snape and Althea? _It's not that bloody faculty unity bollocks again_, she thought. She wrinkled her nose as she walked by the large portrait of Cupid and Psyche, which seemed to have offended Cupid—he quickly pulled the red blanket to his chest. _I remember the last talk:_ _'Disagreements need not be solved at the end of a wand or butter knife_.'

Snape uttered the password and the two professors entered Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore rose from his chair and offered the chairs before his desk. Some of the Headmasters, who had been wandering through portraits, quickly returned to their portrait homes.

"Well, well," Phineas said when Althea took her seat before Dumbledore.

Althea smiled with feigned sweetness at Sirius's ancestor. "If you even think of uttering, 'that Muckblooded tart that led our dear Sirius astray,' I'll take an ax to your portrait."

Phineas leaned forward. "You wouldn't dare."

"Haven't your lot learnt not to dare me?"

Phineas laughed and slammed his hand upon his armrest. "Ha! Insubordination!" he proclaimed and pointed his forefinger at Althea. "You heard it!" he continued, his look pleased. "Insubordination, Dumbledore!"

"Phineas, quiet," Dumbledore insisted, looking over his half-moon glasses at the pair. "I must speak with Althea and Severus."

Phineas quieted and reclined in his chair. "Yes, Headmaster."

Dumbledore looked from Snape to Althea as he spoke, "I owe Althea an apology—"

Althea raised an eyebrow. An apology?

Dumbledore nodded. "You have deserved this apology for thirteen years—"

Althea glanced in Snape's direction. He was perplexed.

"Althea was the victim of a most gross injustice," he continued and shifted his gaze to Snape.

Snape uncharacteristically fidgeted in his chair.

"Sirius Black is innocent."

What felt like ten pleasant fireworks erupted in Althea's belly. She turned her head to witness Snape's reaction. She inhaled deeply at the satisfying display. He was quite still. There was a pink to his sallow skin and every muscle seemed to twitch upon his thin face.

He sat forward. "Black isn't—"

"It's not polite to interrupt the Headmaster," Althea said.

Snape quickly turned to face her—his glare, murderous. She smiled.

"Severus, it is a tale I only learned this summer—"

Althea reclined in her chair and sighed happily. She would have enjoyed the _Daily Prophet_, but this disclosure and apology was just as satisfying. Snape sat rigid as Dumbledore disclosed the true events of Halloween night. Even Phineas took an interest and muttered that he knew his great-great grandson was not a murderer…a lecherous blood traitor, but not a murderer. Althea nodded in agreement with Dumbledore's words and vindication licked at her insides. Since her appointment to Hogwarts, Snape never spared his thoughts of Sirius and of her weakness and stupidity. Always one eager—almost with zeal—to remark of her foolish behavior, she wondered if Snape would display another tantrum. She much enjoyed Sinistra's retelling of Snape's tantrum upon learning that he would not receive an Order of Merlin for his capture of Sirius Black.

"I am very sorry, Althea," Dumbledore said and Althea nodded her acceptance of his apology. "And Severus," he said, looking upon the sullen professor, "you should apologize as well."

Althea let out a small laugh of surprise.

"I have been aware of your remarks against Althea," he said, his blue eyes seeming to bore into Snape's. "As I'd mentioned on numerous occasions, such words were uncalled for, and I will not allow such untruths to continue."

"Sorry," Snape sneered quietly.

Althea wouldn't dare press him to repeat it. "Thank you, Snape."

Snape looked as though he were to vomit. Althea would savor that expression. Oh, how she would enjoy retelling this scene to Sirius tonight!

Snape looked very eager to leave, and Dumbledore understood. "That will be all, Severus," he said and motioned for him to stand.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he muttered quickly.

Standing, Snape did not look at Althea, and—looking ahead of her—she knew he hurriedly left the room. She jumped slightly as he forcefully shut the door. Althea bit her bottom lip to keep herself from devolving into a fit of giggles. She was now alone with the Headmaster. He seemed to eye her with consideration. _Don't know what to make of me now, do you_, she thought, picking at the armrest.

"I trust you will be careful."

"Well, I can't get pregnant," she said and stopped picking at the armrest. "So, you don't have to worry about taking another child away."

She noticed the faint frown upon Dumbledore's lips.

Althea leaned forward—her gaze unwavering. "My intentions have always been what is best for her, and _will always be_ what is best for her."

"Of course."

Althea growled. She wished she had carried the box Arcturus had prepared for her! It was a fine moment to confront the Headmaster's collusion. Still, the events of the summer had transformed her. Her voice—once feeble and placating to the feigned goodwill of her forced tenure at Hogwarts—was strong and clear. No longer was she subject to her guilt or to the reminders of her supposed weakness. She would remind Dumbledore that the power and control he sought over her life was tenuous.

"Sirius Black entering Hogwarts and you're not more concerned?"

Dumbledore remained calm, cool. It infuriated her.

She sat forward, pointing her finger at Dumbledore. "You knew by 1985 that he wasn't a Death Eater—"

Dumbledore's glasses slid down the bridge of his crooked nose. "Be happy they gave you a trial," he said, his brow furrowed over his piercing blue eyes. "If I hadn't intervened for such a spectacle, you were to receive the Kiss."

Althea swallowed. "Probably thought we'd have a nice little reunion in Azkaban."

Dumbledore let a small sigh escape. "Be careful, will you?"

Althea promptly stood, pushing herself upward with her palms upon the armrests. "Finally, you accept my years of advice to hire Remus after Sirius's escape? Funny that," she remarked and Dumbledore remained silent. "Good day, Headmaster."

Althea let out a low growl as the door to the Headmaster's office closed behind her. _Probably thought me an idiot for not realizing sooner_, she thought, lifting herself from the door. She wrinkled her nose at the figure before her. Snape, with his arms folded, stood before her—ready to taunt her. Althea—who should have been amused at Snape's behavior—only felt a slight pity. _Will this continue until we're fifty_? She lowered her head and strode past him, now conscious of her form-fitting dress that Snape might look at her backside. She let out a sigh for she heard Snape's footsteps quickly catch up to her.

"I have to greet Moody," she muttered as she stepped off the last step and into the corridor.

Snape didn't take the hint. "You wasted no time…pathetic."

Althea frowned slightly and quickened her pace. "Not now, Snape," she muttered, hoping to lose him as she rounded the corner.

However, Snape kept her pace. "I'm sure he was pleased to see you."

Althea let out a small, quiet growl. "What do you mean, then?"

"Black," he sneered.

Snape took two steps forward before he realized Althea had stopped. Althea's eyes darted around Snape—they were alone. _Right_, she thought as the interested cherubs came to rest upon the branches in the painting next to them, _get on with it_.

"Once again, Snape, you're obsessed with my love life," she began and rested her hands upon her hips.

Snape's nostril's twitched. "You're an embarrassment—"

"What," she asked, holding out her arms, "to these hallowed halls of magical learning?" She stepped forward. "Whether it's shagging a beloved werewolf schoolteacher, or shagging the most wanted man in the Wizarding world, you care more than any gossiping schoolgirl." She let out a laugh of humorous disbelief—Snape did not share her amusement. "Although," she continued and smiled impishly, "I must say it was the best shag I've had in thirteen years, and—as you like to remind—I've had _plenty_."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "It's all a joke to you," he said in a low tone.

"I won't say which one, either. I'd rather you come to your own conclusions," she teased and winked. "As you, no doubt, will."

Snape developed a maddened look, which caused Althea to take a step back. His black eyes bored into Althea's skin, making her uncomfortable.

"How could you take things so lightly?" he asked, his voice waspish. "You, most of all!" His face was purple as if it took thirteen years for him to extract what he would say next, "Black murdered Lily!"

Snape's anguished words seemed to echo in the corridor. _You still_, she thought, tilting her head faintly on its side, _you still care for her? After all you had done_? Althea blinked—did Snape have the capacity for love? Of caring for another? _Has he ever shown anyone kindness_?

"No matter what," he said, his voice regaining its control, "you and Black are the reason she's dead."

Althea inhaled deeply. She, too, had blamed Sirius for Lily's death—in his hubris and in his stupidity—but such blame was futile for the very simple fact that Lily and James Potter could have refused. She would not hesitate to remind Snape of this.

She licked her lips, tasting the raspberry gloss. "Lily could've refused Peter."

Snape—the muscles in his neck tightened with his veins prominent—spat, "Not with Potter!"

Althea laughed with spite. "Do you really think—" She paused, a slow and knowing smile tugged at her lips.

Snape eyed her warily.

"I remember, at Hogwarts, when you said that you'd kept that letter I'd written to Sirius until it was useful for you," she said, and saw the flicker of Snape remembering the incident upon the lawn their seventh year. "You had it planned, didn't you?" she asked and gently bit her bottom lip. "If Sirius and I were to break up, _surely_ Lily and James would follow, wouldn't they?" She furrowed her brow. "Except, they didn't, did they? If anything, the birth of Harry—"

Althea saw the spark of anger in his eyes.

"—only brought Sirius and me back together," she finished, and she inhaled another deep, satisfying breath.

She would relish what she was about to say next. Jane and Althea—the entire fifth year Gryffindor girls' dormitory, actually—would tease Lily over Snape's obvious affection of her. Blushing and flustered, she would vehemently deny it and change the subject—usually to the equally sore subject of Sirius Black to annoy Althea. _I deserved it_, she thought, _teasing her about your friendship when you followed her about like a pathetic puppy. She couldn't help it_. She had thought Snape was jealous Lily's close friendship with her, but now she realized, Snape only sought after Lily for himself.

Althea developed a mockingly thoughtful expression. "James wasn't as sensitive a soul as you, was he?"

Snape was silent.

"Imagined him pawing around—fumbling, really," she said as her hands mimicked exaggerated squeezing. "God," she breathed and threw her head back, "like he was grasping for that bloody Snitch!" She lowered her head—Snape's hands were balled into fists at his sides. "Receiving advice from Sirius," she added, smirking, "a boy keen to _muck_ about."

"Disgusting," he sneered and swallowed with palpable hatred.

"You spied on us that much, you freak," she murmured and lightly licked her top row of teeth. "Isn't unrequited lust a bitch?"

Out of her periphery, she saw Snape reach for his wand.

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" he replied, forcing a spiteful smile to show his yellowed, uneven teeth. "You and Lupin were fodder among the staff this summer. I heard it was…_heartbreaking_."

Althea ignored Snape's jibe and slipped her fingers inside her robe pocket. "You were hanging round people that wanted to kill her," she said and grasped the smooth handle of her wand. "_Kill her_. Did you convince yourself they'd make an exception?"

Snape—silent—was pale and his look furious.

"You did, didn't you?" she breathed and let out a laugh of surprise. "D'you _really_ think she'd fancy you after _that_?" she asked and stepped closer to him. She could smell the acrid scent of his potions stores upon his robes as she whispered, "She _loathed_ you." She pulled away. "Good day, Snape." she said and nodded. Tightly grasping her wand, she quickly walked past him.

"You should be more careful with your happy little family reunions."

The muscles of her torso contracted. Her heart sank into her stomach—she winced. She quickly spun to face him.

Snape, very pleased, smugly eyed Althea.

"You've spoken with Narcissa Malfoy, have you? Still carrying the tea trays until they can scrounge for a new house-elf?"

Snape was not deterred, "Such the motherly example—"

Neither was Althea, "It didn't work, Snape. I'm not sure what you were insinuating to Parker—"

"_Black_," he corrected.

"—when you had her clean the Trophy Room and rewrite those detention cards, but it didn't work."

"Such arrogance," he replied, "where does it come from?"

"She thinks he's fantastic," she said and noticed Snape's pleased look falter. "A kind and good man…an _innocent_ man. Sirius Black is a bloody hero."

Snape flinched.

"Twelve years in Azkaban, and now, reunited with his one true love…" Althea inhaled deeply through her delicate nostrils, "teenage girls live for that sort of thing."

"A fool like her mother—"

Althea stepped forward. "You've obviously figured out why I'm at Hogwarts, haven't you? You loathe me _that_ much," she said, narrowing her eyes. "If I learn that you have threatened or upset her in any way, be sure that I will carve you up just like the others, " she continued, but Snape did not budge. "This time, I'll have Sirius to help me, and knowing that you, a Death Eater, were out while he was in Azkaban is not something he fondly remembers. You remember what sort of hell he put you through at Hogwarts, just imagine what he'd do to you now."

"Ah, yes," he said, "such the strong woman you are now."

Althea looked Snape over. "At least I had the courage to get what I wanted."

"And Black is such a _fine_ choice."

Althea smiled. "Yes, yes he is," she answered and smiled. "Now, I must take my leave and revise my lesson plans," she continued and developed a mockingly deviant look. "I have young magic minds to corrupt with Muggle machinations."

* * *

Althea's fingertips lightly traveled over the top of the squashy armchair as she leisurely walked the length of the Gryffindor common room. Her last memory—as her eyes took in the similar curtains, paintings, and tapestries—was of her hurried exit from Hogwarts. Her stomach tightened at the memory of her trunk levitating behind her, her eyes swollen from tears, and the threat that Sirius would tell all. She massaged her abdomen. Time, war, and Azkaban had changed him. A wand pointed at one's head mid Killing Curse or the constant presence of dementors would surely do that. He seemed almost offended that Remus would not take Sirius's place at Althea's side to care for _his_ Althea in his absence.

"I wonder if Shipley still needs Elfrida Clagg…I have at least two of her, I think," she murmured, reading the scribbled offer for a Chocolate Frog Card on the posted scrap of parchment.

She shrugged at the bulletin board, adjusted her grip upon the basket, and headed toward the girls' dormitory staircase. It still took some effort to open the thick, wooden door to the second-year dormitory, but once inside, she felt the twinge of pleasure as she looked upon the four four-poster beds. _We had five_, she thought as she stepped to the center of the room. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. It still smelled as she remembered—musty, wooden, and ancient. She opened her eyes and quickly walked to the second bed. She let out a small grunt while lifting the basket—with scarlet and gold ribbon—onto the bed. She gently chewed her bottom lip. Was it too much? Would Prudence be embarrassed by such a display? She imagined Prudence throwing her head back and groaning at the basket or feverishly muttering a flustered response as to the senders of the basket.

Althea tugged at the shiny scarlet ribbon. "I'll blame her father," she murmured and smiled.

She peered inside the basket at the wrapped cakes and sweets, surely to be gone by evening's end, to the small box Sirius insisted that she place. She lifted the small box, nestled among Chocoballs and Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and held it before her. It was very tempting to untie the gold ribbon and peek inside, but she didn't dare do so.

"You are, by far, the luckiest little girl," she whispered, her gaze lingering upon the box.

She returned the box to the basket and smoothed the bedclothes. Once finished, she turned to her right—to the empty bed before her…Lily's bed. She could almost see the girl with dark red hair with the impish grin and pink polyester pajamas. Her thoughts were filled to the moments when either girl would ask if the other was awake, and they would conduct their nightly talks in giggles and whispers. Never, in those late night conversations of giggling preteen girls, did they think of lives lost, families torn apart, and of empty and broken promises.

Althea rested her hand upon the cool, wooden bedpost. "May you never experience heartache," she whispered, her eyes seeming to look through the empty bed. "I miss you, Lily."

Swallowing, she let her hand drop from the bedpost, and without hesitancy, exited the dormitory. As her footsteps echoed on the stone steps, she wished that Sirius would be at the bottom of the stairs to greet her and banish those feelings of loneliness. _He would be an absolute idiot_, she thought, _and that Fat Lady would never let him enter…not after what he put her through_.

"Hello, lovely."

Althea stopped mid-step and looked up. There, at the bottom of the stairs, his hands in his robe pockets—his look one of casual arrogance—stood her Sirius. Her neck flushed with warmth as his gaze traveled up her figure. He grinned, and she felt her lips do the same.

"What are you doing here?" she breathed.

He shrugged. "Had to apologize to the Fat Lady," he said and winked.

Althea hopped off the bottom step and leapt into his arms. She buried her face against his neck, giggling, as he twirled her around the common room. Laughing, she begged him to stop and he—with a teasing groan—reluctantly complied. Dizzy, she blinked to correct herself. She pulled away from him slightly and, rather pleased with himself, he pinched her nose.

"Oh," he said, fully pulling away from her, "I have something for you." He frowned as he rummaged through his robe pockets. He let out a small noise of triumph. "Here," he said, producing a small, carefully wrapped box.

Althea took it in her hands and tugged at the scarlet ribbon.

"For your office," he said and nodded toward the gift.

"For my office?" she murmured, untying the ribbon.

Althea removed the box top and gasped. There, in a simple black picture frame, was their first family portrait. Prudence—in her Hogwarts uniform—proudly stood between Althea and Sirius on the lawns of Northfield. Althea blinked rapidly as her tears obscured the happy faces. She smiled at Sirius in the photograph—his expression whole—leaned to kiss Althea's cheek, and Prudence stuck out her tongue. She brought the picture frame closer to her. _That we will have more like this_, she thought, feeling as though her chest would burst.

"Thank you," she murmured, not taking her eyes of the photograph.

Sirius pried her hand from the picture frame. "Always," he said and kissed her fingers. "Come on," he said and tugged at her hand.

Althea, still enamored with the photograph, followed Sirius up the staircases to the seventh-year boys' dormitory. He sighed happily as he opened the door, pulling Althea forward into the room. She wrinkled her nose at the scent of perpetual teenage boy: Dungbombs, Quidditch uniforms, and snuck Firewhiskey. Still, for a seventeen-year-old girl, with an invitation to Sirius Black's bed during a Hogsmeade trip, it was intoxicating. _You'd think the house-elves could scrub that out, wouldn't you_, she questioned as Sirius—oblivious to the odor—his reminiscing, smiling face turning in all directions, led her further into the room.

He sighed happily once more. "Such happy memories."

"You forget how it ended—"

"I wanted to be the only one," he said plainly, looking into her eyes. "I thought you—" He sighed, shook his head, and smiled. "I just wanted it to be perfect."

Althea nodded. "It was," she murmured and kissed his lips. "My quarters?"

Sirius pulled her close to him, his parted lips intermingled with her own, ignoring her offer. His kisses were eager, but sweet, and she found it difficult to disregard his gentle, but persistent, coaxing toward the four-poster bed. Giggling, she flung herself back onto the bed—the bedclothes fluffing up around her. Sirius, too, joined her upon the bed, but crawled toward the headboard. He pushed away the fluffy down pillows and chuckled.

"I wonder how many have tried to remove this?"

Althea crawled next to him. She slowly smiled as her fingers traced, _SB + AM_. She remembered the March afternoon when Sirius scratched their initials into the headboard. She had warned him about defacing school property, but he didn't care. He made it permanent. She fell in love with that recklessness. She kissed his cheek, and pulling away, she noticed a mischievous, hungry glint in his eyes. She felt a jolt of adrenaline.

"McGonagall could catch us," she whispered as Sirius—his kisses upon her neck, slow and deliberate—guided her onto her back.

She closed her eyes, inhaling the warm, spicy scent of his skin. She bit her bottom lip as his fingers grazed the silver clasp of her robes at her waist. He lifted his fingers, the silken fabric slid and tumbled from the clasp, and exposed her warm skin to the cool air of the room. She opened her eyes and let out a small gasp at his moist lips against her cooled skin. Her fingertips sank between his smooth locks of hair, grasping and releasing, in response—Sirius smiled against her. Her eyes drifted upward, and she furrowed her brow at the burgundy canopy—at the strange, surreal feeling it evoked.

Sirius paused, and propped himself up with his hands on either side of her shoulders. "What?" he whispered, thick locks of black hair fell against his eyelashes and fluttered when he blinked. "Afraid of a little detention?"

He never seemed to care, did he? She smoothed the locks of hair from his face, but they immediately fell forward once more.

Althea teasingly pouted. "You promise we won't get caught?"

He smiled crookedly as he pushed her lip up with his thumb. "I promise."

* * *

_**THE END**_

* * *

**AN: **Thank you so much for deciding to read this story. Thank you to all who have left comments, reviews, and messages. I've enjoyed reading them all. I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as the others. I began to write this story, the entire Althea story, just for myself. I decided to post it and I was surprised and pleased that others would want to read about her, her adventures, and all the characters. I thought I would end it at _Shown Like the Sun_, but there was still more to be told. I had to write about Prudence. I hope you have enjoyed this latest story as I have enjoyed writing it. Please, do not hesitate to leave a review, comment, or question.

**_The Bitter Root_** is the fourth installment (I'm not prepared to just call it 'series' yet...). Two paranoid prisoners of Azkaban, conspiracy within the Ministry, and possibly the key to destroy Voldemort.


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